


The Spirit Never Forgets

by kalipeda



Category: Sen to Chihiro no Kamikakushi | Spirited Away
Genre: Angst, Cutesy, Emotional Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Funny, General bad-assery, Mild Language, Mild Sexual Content, My OCs are going to be the death of me, PTSD, Sappy, Sass, Sexual Frustration, Sexy dudes, Slow Build, Snark, Spirits, Supernatural Elements, Yakuza, idk even, mild Blood and Violence, naked folks making other folks uncomfortable HA, physical comfort, powers, so enjoy that
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-10
Updated: 2017-01-25
Packaged: 2018-04-20 01:35:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 64,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4768622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kalipeda/pseuds/kalipeda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>-- A Rollercoaster of a story, this started as an innocent drabble, and has quickly become a fantasy about organized crime and a headstrong heroine, dotted with morally ambiguous spirits, violence, and sassy, attractive men. Please help. --</p><p>Now in her mid-20's, Chihiro remembers her childhood adventures as nothing more than the imaginings of a troubled girl, used as a means of coping. She uses these characters from her memory -- especially her beloved, imaginary friend Haku -- to create a literary world that now helps other, troubled children.<br/>What happens, though, when she is introduced to Ko, someone she instinctively seems to know? What does their connection mean? Why is he so interested in the spirit world of her childhood and books, especially Haku? And why does she feel like she isn't remembering something, something important?<br/>I hope you enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Once You Meet Someone, You Never Really Forget Them

**Author's Note:**

> I loved Spirited Away and always wanted a sequel. This is my own version of it. I hope you enjoy. :)
> 
> x

There is something so peaceful about sitting by this stream. In the middle of a sprawling suburban area, it has managed to eek it’s way through the concrete and pipes, flowing slowly but steadily amidst this tiny copse of trees. Planted next to my apartment complex’s parking lot, it was only meant as a decoration to distract from all the asphalt, but it quickly took over its small corner of the lot, despite the ground keeper’s attempts to tame it. What started as a few pathetic saplings and some dirt are now tall, strong trees, thick bushes and wild flowers, and in the middle of this tiny forest is this stream. I used to live in this city when I was younger, almost 15 years ago, and though I don’t remember much, I do know that this entire area used to be real forest, and that instead of a little stream there was a river. I just wish I could remember that river’s name.

“Chihiro!”

I startle from my thoughts and look up from the small boulder I am perched on where I have been observing the gentle bubbling of water.

“Chihiro, I’ve been calling you for like 5 minutes.” Stumbling through the foliage is my old childhood friend, Rumi. We had been the best of friends as girls, staying in contact when I moved to a different town and school, retaining our “best friends forever” status. When we graduated, I moved back to my old hometown and we got an apartment together.

“I’m sorry.” I smile at her, turning back to the stream. “My mind was wandering.”

“Yeah, and I think it still might be.” she laughs lightly.

Reluctantly, I finally pull my attention away from the water, giving myself a mental shake, and laugh back. “You might be right. Sorry.”

“Oh, it’s not like you’re not always this way.” she grins, looping her arm through mine and dragging me through the trees. We emerge onto the small strip of parched grass that separates the wooded are from the blazing heat of the sun reflecting off of the asphalt parking lot.

“Ugh.” I grimace, wrinkling my nose at the little waves of heat eddying up from the lot. “You dragged me from the nice and cool, why again?”

“Because you have a date, remember!” she shakes me, none too gently.

I grumble. “It’s a blind date, Rumi. I don’t even want to go.”

“No way, you promised! Remember? It’s this really nice guy who just moved to the area, and he doesn’t know anybody! You don’t have to think of it as a date, I guess, but you did promise.”

I sigh, knowing she’s right, and knowing that as much as I’m objecting to what is most certainly a date — despite Rumi’s attempts to gloss it over — I could never be so unthoughtful as to leave this guy hanging.

Speaking of.

“What was his name?” I ask as we make our way towards the main road and the conveniently close bus stop.

“Ko.”

“Ko?”

“Yupp. I asked if it’s meant to be like the kanji for “child” but he didn’t say.”

“Well can you blame him, being called baby all his life?”

“I wouldn’t mind.” Rumi waggles her brows at me and I laugh.

“This isn’t America, and that isn’t English.”

“Semantics.” she waves my words away and I just shake my head at her.

Once we’re seated on the bus she turns to me, her voice serious now. “Listen, Chihero. If you really don’t want to do this, I understand. I guess I kind of pressured you into this double date thing, it wasn’t very fair of me.”

“No, it’s fine.” I pat her arm. “Besides, with a name like Ko, how bad can he be?”

Her shoulders relax and she winks, “Let me tell you, not too shabby at all.”

“Oh, really? Well don’t let your admiration of this Ko guy make Ren too jealous.” I joke.

“Please, he would love that. It would only give him an excuse to fuss over me more.”

“True.” I giggle.

Ren went to school with Rumi and is head over heels in love with her, and as much as she jokes about it, I know she feels the exact same way about him. Any day now I expect to have my ears assaulted by the shrieks of joy an engagement will produce. I’m so happy that Rumi has found someone she can spend the rest of her life with, but I will miss her sorely when that time comes.

“I knew it. I knew you were lying, you really are upset about this date!” she exclaims, seeing that my mood has suddenly turned morose.

“No, no, no!” I rush to reassure her, “I, uh, I was just wishing that my love life was as great as yours! And..uh, that maybe this is just the opportunity I need to make that happen?” I don’t want to make her feel bad and rush to come up with an excuse, and luckily she doesn’t here the question mark in my hastily constructed explanation.

“Awe, Chihiro. You’ll find your prince charming! And if Ko isn’t your one true love, then at least you’ll be nice and warmed up to try with someone else, right?” she bumps her shoulder against mine.

Her statement only manages to produce an image of her and Ren in full medieval attire. professing courtly promises of devotion, but it pulls a grin from me nonetheless, and Rumi is satisfied.

About ten minutes later, we are in the center of our small, bustling city, and we get off the bus, heading towards our favorite Ramen shop. It’s not the classiest joint, but what it lacks in high end decor and atmosphere, it more than makes up for in price and what are arguably the city’s best noodles.

Pushing through the door, we wave and call our hellos to the cooks behind the counter who know us well from our regular patronage, and head towards our usual table. Ren is facing me, his nearly buzzcut hair made less severe by his boyish face and warm eyes which become even brighter as they land on Rumi who promptly squeals and races ahead to throw herself into his arms, like she didn’t just see him last night. I laugh and turn my attention to the man who’s back is still to me. From this angle I can only see his hair, grown to his broad shoulders and left straight. As I come up next to the table, Rumi extricates herself from her boyfriend’s grasp and motions to me and Ko, going through the usual formal introductions as I turn to finally look at his face.

I can’t help the shock that goes through me, leaving my knees wobbly. _I know this man. But that’s impossible…_ His hair grows to his shoulders, but also down over his forehead in a fashionably untamed way, narrow lips and high cheekbones making him striking. But it’s his eyes that punch the breath from my longs. They’re a soft green, which is unusual considering we’re asian, but otherwise a rather unassuming shade. More than their color, though, it is their depth that is so shocking, but somehow _familiar_. I’ve read enough cheesy romances to know that describing someone’s eyes as deep, pulling you forward and in, is the biggest cliche in the book, but damn if these green eyes aren’t doing just that, the lights reflecting in them in a swaying, dancing motion. His eyes are boring into mine with such an intensity that I know I should look away, except that that focus seems to be saying something, so I stare back, trying to understand their message. Maybe it’s just ‘why are you glaring at me, strange girl?!’

“Chihiro, I hope you don’t mind if I sit next to Ren. I know you’re supposed to sit across from your date so that you can oggle each other properly, but I want to be next to him.” Rumi breaks the connection as she lifts her and Ren’s clasped hands into my line of sight by way of further explanation. “So, is that okay?”

I stare at their twined fingers, lost for a moment as my sense of deja vu grows, adding to by already befuddled state. “Oh, um, yeah. Yeah-yeah, that’s fine, of course, sorry,” as I quickly plop myself down next to Ko with a quiet, “Nice to meet you.” I’ve already made the poor man uncomfortable with my awkward eye contact, no doubt, so I do my best to remedy the situation by being polite.

My eyes widen slightly as I watch him slowly lift his hand and gently run a finger over the cord on my wrist. Despite being little more than a length of woven thread meant to function as a hair-tie — even if a lovely, shining one — I got it when I was a girl, though I’ve forgotten where exactly, now. I only remember that it has always been one of my most cherished possessions, despite its humble nature, and I’ve never not worn it. Ko’s finger now traces it, so lightly that if I wasn’t looking I wouldn't even know he was, before pulling away in what I can only describe as a reluctant manner. “It is-It“ he pauses and clears his throat, “It is truly so nice to meet you, Chihiro.” he finally tells me, and with so much sincerity in his voice that even though I promised for his sake not to make any more uncomfortable eye contact, my gaze snaps up to meet his once more.

And I lose my breath again.

Because this man I’ve only just met, a stranger, is looking at me in the most heart breakingly hopeful way; he is looking at me like he had lost something incalculably precious and he has just found it again.

 

 

xxxxx

 

 

 

I like to think that I am a sensible girl. I have always tried to live my life honestly and respectfully. So normally, I would not be oggling someone to death. More than that, though, if someone were staring at me with what can only be described as open adoration, someone who was totally unknown to me, I would consider it to be rude, if not outright disturbingly creepy.

It would seem my common sense attitude has flown right out the window.

Instead of being put on full “watch out there is something seriously wrong with this guy why is he looking at you like that (?????)” alert, I am being filled with that same sense of deja vu I experienced earlier. At the same time, I know that that alert _should_ be ringing through my head, so now I am as equally confused by those earthy green eyes as I am by myself.

_There must be something wrong with me._

_But it doesn’t feel wrong._

_That’s even worse._

Ko seems to recognize the conflicting emotions running through my brain, because I can see him visibly try to rain in the emotions he is broadcasting before giving me a somewhat rueful smile, “I’m sorry.”

“No.” I say slowly, “It’s not you, it’s just -“ I struggle to put my feelings into words, “I feel like I’ve met you before.”

“Well, once you meet someone, you never really forget them. It just takes you awhile to remember them again.”

I shake my head, trying to still my flying thoughts. I seem to be doing that a lot today. “Someone…Someone told me that before, I think.”

“It was a common saying of my Grandmother’s.” Another soft, if quick, stroke of the tie on my wrist.

“Your..Granny?”

I suddenly can’t seem to focus, my mind galloping from thoughts of his eyes to my hair-tie, from his Granny’s words to, randomly, my little stream which I wish I was sitting next to right now instead of feeling so very terribly confused. My breathing is coming more shallowly and suddenly I realize that I am on the verge of having a panic attack. I haven’t had one since before the first time I moved as a little girl. I was so proud of myself for gaining the self-confidence to overcome these lapses in control, but suddenly I am that 10 year old girl again. “I need some air.” I manage to strangle out before lurching to my feet.

“Wait, Chihiro, are you okay? What should we order you?” Rumi looks at me in concern.

I do my best to seize some control, praying I can answer while seeming normal enough “Yes, I just need some fresh air, I’m feeling a little dizzy. Just get me whatever you’re having.”

“Should I come with you?”

“No!!” A choked breath. “No, it’s okay. I’ll just be a moment.” And then I nearly sprint for the door. There went seeming normal.

I squeeze myself into the narrow alley next door, hiding behind the garbage cans and cardboard boxes piled at its mouth. Crouching down, I bury my face in my arms, rocking slightly on my heels.

“It’s okay.” I whisper to myself. “You’re just overreacting. It’s not real. It’s okay. It’s like bad-dream. You have the control if you try hard enough.” But no matter how fiercely I whisper this to myself through my gasping breaths and — yupp, there are tears. great. — I can’t stop feeling like I am that scared little girl who actually has _no_ control over her thoughts and emotions, her life, and I can’t stop my body from fighting me.

Suddenly there is a hand on my back, and I still, mortification adding to my already growing frustration and, well, panic. “Focus on your breathing.” Ko tells me gently. How did I not notice him get so close? “Listen to how I breathe.” He pulls in air exaggeratedly loud, but slowly, holding it a moment before letting it out again, just as loudly and slowly. “Listen to my breathing, Chihiro. You’re okay. I’m right here. Just listen.” Distantly, I am aware of the fact that his exaggerated breathing is kind of funny sounding, that if anyone were to walk by the alley and here him, they would think Darth Vader had decided to take up residence there, and the humor of it is enough to distract me from my own breathing (or rather my lack of control of it). In a backwards way, _not_ focusing on it — worrying more and making things worse — helps me to control it better. Slowly, my breathing begins to regulate itself, my breaths coming in time with Ko’s, whose hand still rests comfortingly between my shoulder blades.

Even though I’ve gotten the panic attack in hand, I remain in my semi-fetal-position-crouch-thing. The mortification has come roaring back. Not only did I visual-jitsu this guy to pieces, but I then went and had an emotional break down in front of him. What a great first impression.

“Chihiro, it’s okay. You don’t have to be embarrassed.” Ko tells me. What, can this guy read minds?

“I’m not embarrassed” I humph.

“That would be much more convincing if you weren't still hiding in your sweater sleeves.”

I humph again but lift my face, and not without a little defiance. “There, better?”

 

Instead of answering he tsks and reaches up with a handkerchief — people still use those? — to softly swipe at my eyes and cheeks. “Now it’s better.” he nods, “but it would be best if you didn’t still look so sad.”

I force a very fake but very cheesy smile to my lips. “How’s that?”

He startles into a laugh, deep and rolling. Wow, his laugh is great.

“Still not convincing enough for you?” I manage.

“It wasn’t. But this smile is.” He stands and I bring my fingers to my lips, surprised to find a genuine smile there. “And now to make things the bestest.”

I can’t help but grin now, standing up myself. “The bestest?” my eyebrow quirks up, “How exactly is that achieved?”

“Food.” he tells me, the ‘duh’ silent.

Well, that works for me.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHHHH  
> I have so many ideas for this fic and this pairing, but so few words to put them into *cries softly*  
> This first chapter is on the shorter side (though tbh my chapters are pretty short in general) as I am new to Ao3 and trying to figure things out whilst posting existing chapters of this fic here from my fanfic site and also writing more chapters  
> Thank you for even making it this far, and I hope you are willing enough to stick with me through this journey. Please, please, please feel free to comment with thoughts, ideas, likes, dislikes, errors and opinions! I love to read them all :)  
> Thank you again!
> 
> x


	2. That's My Heart, There. He is Protecting It.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, friends! I was quite worried with regards to the reception of this work on this server, but I couldn't be more pleased, all things considered! Thank you so much for reading and I really hope you enjoy (despite all the corniness and angst HA) — pleaaase let me know what you think in the comments, as it is your support and insight which informs how I continue and keeps me motivated in general; I value you, the reader’s, input more than you know. On a side note, this work can also be found on fanfiction.com, with the same username and story title — the structure of chapters between the two sites is different, with chapters here combined and so longer, though content is the same. I like Ao3’s interface a LOT more and how notes etc work, but I will continue to post on both sites.  
> Thank you again for reading! This chapter is a little shorter than the last, i think, but I hope you still enjoy!  
> x

We return to our seats and I keep my head down, knowing that if Rumi gets a good look at my face she will immediately know I’ve been crying. As it is, she is too involved in making googoo eyes with Ren, for which I send up a quiet ‘thank you’ — I wouldn’t want to ruin this outing even _more_. 

Our food arrives shortly after we sit, and for the next ten minutes or so all that can be heard is the slurping of noodles and various noises of appreciation we each make. Internally, though, I am banging my head against a wall. Repeatedly. While true that Ko seemed to take both my creepy staring and random panic attack in stride, I can’t even begin to imagine what he must think of me. 

“So Chihiro, Rumi tells me you’re an author?”

I pause with my bowl mid air. Well at least I haven’t scared him off completely, it would seem. “Yes. I am.”

“That’s cool. So, uh, what do you write?”

“Oh, ha, I should've said. Right. I write fiction for small children.” It would also seem I am still very nervous.

Rumi finally turns away from Ren to but in, “Oh please, Chihiro, don’t be so modest! She has a degree in psychiatry and writes books for therapeutic purposes, so they're fun and engaging for young kids, but also help them to recover.”

“Wow. That’s amazing.”

“Thank you.” I murmur, ducking my head because I’m now blushing.

“What are these kids usually recovering from when they read your books?”

“Social anxiety and general issues with connecting to people as well as self-esteem. They seem like minor issues, but they can be really debilitating when faced at such a young age, and if not overcome they can have lasting repercussions.”

“May I ask why you decided to do this for a living?”

This time when I meet Ko’s gaze, there is only a deep and genuine curiosity there. I’m relieved but also kind of disappointed. “To be honest, I struggled with these things myself when I was little. Rumi was my only friend as a young girl, otherwise I suffered from extreme nerves and anxiety…I couldn't connect to others, and I felt very much alone. It’s a terrible thing, to feel so lost. Once I was able to overcome those feelings of isolation, I wanted to make sure that no other child ever felt that way again, that they felt confident and loved.”

“I didn’t know that, Chihiro.” Rumi says quietly, though I’m thankful to see she isn’t hurt by the omission, just intrigued.

I shrug trying to seem nonchalant, “I guess it never came up.”

“How did you overcome your problems, though? Did you find some helpful book yourself?” Ren asks.

“It was when we moved, actually. I don’t remember much of it, except that Rumi here had given me my first bouquet ever —“

“I’m such a good friend.”

“Yeah, yeah the best.” I laugh. “But anyway, something about the whole move just, changed me somehow. I don’t know. Around that time, though, I began getting these ideas about fantastic adventures and characters which I wrote about, and those are the ones I actually have used in my books.”

Ko looks startled. “What kinds of adventures?”

“Go buy a book and find out!” Rumi teases, though I know she’s almost serious in her attempt to help me sell my work. 

“Hush, you.” I wave at her good naturally before turning back to Ko. “My books all take place in an alternate land inhabited by spirits. I have a few different main characters, but they all face adversity which they overcome by being honest and kind to those around them, even when those people are especially mean or greedy.”

“Yeah, like that evil bath house owner!” Rumi exclaims, “What a you-know-what.”

I go to admonish Rumi and to explain that the bath house owner is not evil, in fact she still has a strict code and rules she follows despite her greediness, but suddenly Ko is choking on his food and I am clapping him on the back in alarm.

“Ko! Oh my gosh, are you okay?!”

He holds up a hand and I stop beating him with a wince. “Sorry, I might have got a little carried away.”

“It’s okay. I’m okay. You’re okay.” he coughs between gasps. 

The whole situation seems to be a weird reversal of the one that just took place in the alley, and I can’t stop the small giggle that escapes me at the thought.

“Chihiro!” Rumi frowns, “I don’t see how you can find Ko chocking funny.”

Now I am laughing, “No you don’t understand! Before he was — and now I am!”

Ko who has regained his breath is staring at me wide eyed.

“I’m so sorry,” I tell him in fits, trying and failing to contain my laughter. “You must think that I’m a terrible person after helping me.” I notice a noodle that has gotten stuck to the side of his face and without thinking reach out to pluck it away, holding it up for him to see, my laughter only growing. 

Before I am able to react, Ko darts his head forward and nips the noodle from my fingers with his mouth. I have a moment where I am excruciatingly aware of how soft his lips are as they brush against my skin, but then I am just staring at him with my jaw dropped, by hand still held aloft as he chews smugly. Now Rumi is cackling hysterically. 

“No worries —food makes everything better,” he winks.

 

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

As we pile out of the Ramen shop, Ko turns to me rather sheepishly. “Sorry if I was too forward back there. I hope I didn’t weird you out.”

“Are you kidding?” Rumi barks out a laugh, “The look on her face was priceless. That was great.”

“Maybe for you, Rumi.” Ren tugs her to his side with a pointed look in my direction.

“No you didn’t weird me out.” I promise him, all the while wondering why he in turn hasn’t been at all weirded out by my own escapades. “I was just surprised.”

“That’s an understatement.” Rumi sniggers under her breath before Ren turns her, muffling her face against his shoulder. “I can still talk like this!” She laughs indistinctly, wrapping her arms around Ren as he marches her backwards. “Kinda.”

Ko just grins at me, still looking embarrassed. “In terms of boundaries, I have overstepped way more than you have, so seriously — don’t worry.” I reach out and awkwardly pat his shoulder before pulling away quickly, that dang blush threatening to rise to my cheeks again. His grin is now more relieved, and we continue walking down the road in an amicable silence, trailing behind Rumi who has somehow ended up on Ren’s back as she forcefully points ahead like she’s ordering a charge. We follow her gesticulations towards the nearby walking path, meandering through a sculpture garden, as the sun starts to sink lower into the sky. We go slowly, examining each piece of art, making a few comments here and there, but otherwise just enjoying the coming sunset and cooling night air. 

“This one’s my favorite.” I tell Ko softly as we reach the last statue, approving of the look of wonder on his face.

“Why?” he responds just as softly. Something about the stillness of the art we have been admiring paired with the fading day has us speaking with hushed voices, as if anything louder would disturb the feeling of calmness that has taken over the moment. 

I step off the path and approach the statue. Made of polished white and green marble, it is the largest of all the statues, fangs and curling tail giving it an air of what some might call menace. I reach out and gently stroke across its muzzle. “This piece was commissioned, based on one of the characters in my books. I remember him from when I was a baby even. He might have been an imaginary friend, but he has always been special to me.” I walk along the statues length, trailing my hand down its flank. “People see him and think ‘Oh what a frightening creature! How awful!’, but they don’t know better. This dragon represents loyalty, courage, friendship, everything good this, and the spirit world of my books, has to offer. It is not menace that has him baring his teeth but rather the will to protect. See, look.” I have stopped at the end of its tail and look back to Ko who is rubbing at his eyes. In the fading light it is hard to see his expression clearly. “You okay?” 

“Yeah.” he assures me in a whisper while rubbing an eye, as he walks to where I stand.

“Look.” I say again, lowering myself to kneel in the sand as I point to the coiled end of tail. “What do you see there?”

He kneels next to me. “Is that a heart?”

Even kneeling he towers above me, and I smile up at him. “It is. Remember how I said that this dragon represents everything good this world has to offer? Well the greatest thing, the very best, is love. He may not be real, but I have loved this dragon and everything he symbolizes since I was small. That’s my heart, there. He is protecting it.”

 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

Ko looks at me mutely, and I begin to feel self-conscious. Looking back down and rubbing the back of my neck, I stutter out awkwardly, “Um, I realize that might seem kind of strange, having such an emotional attachment to a childhood imaginary friend, me being a psychiatrist and everything —“

He cuts me off, waving his hands worriedly, “No, no, no! I was just struck by your sincerity! Dragons always get a bad rep as being greedy, selfish and dangerous, but even as a small child you saw your dragon for what it really was, and still remain loyal to it….and now I sound strange, putting so much stock in your imaginary friend, as well.” he laughs once, forcing the air out his nose in one quick breath.

I grin at him, amused by both the fact that much of our interactions with one another this evening have consisted of feeling embarrassed and apologizing, as well that he seems to take my dragon as seriously as I do. Most other adults smile patronizingly before quickly changing the subject when I explain him to them, so to receive such a positive response is truly refreshing and, in a way, comforting. I reach out and grip one of his hands without thinking, giving it a meaningful squeeze. “Thank you.”

He squeezes back, understanding in his eyes, “You’re welcome.”

“Ummm, are we interrupting something here? Should we come back?”

Ko and I both shoot to our feet, our hands falling apart as Rumi, dangling onto Ren’s arm, stares at us gleefully.

“I was just telling him about Haku.” I glare at her, silently threatening pain if she makes any more snarky comments.

“You remember his name?” Ko suddenly turns to me, a gleam in his eye.

“Um, yes?” I answer, not quite sure what he means.

“Like she could forget!” Rumi flaps her hand at me, “Haku was her first, best, and completely _fake_ love, but her love nonetheless.” My glare intensifies — pain. More pain is being promised. “I like you, Ko, so I’ll give you the heads up now, give you more of a fighting chance, when I tell you that you have some stiff competition, trying to compare against a fictional drag-“

“OH-kay, that’s enough of you!” Ren finally interjects, clamping his fingers over Rumi’s mouth.

“Oh my gosh.” I mutter in horror, scrubbing at my blazing cheeks, avoiding eye contact. Forget pain, murder is officially being taken into consideration. 

Rumi continues to speak, but all that can be heard through the grip Ren has on her are her sounds of indignance as she tries prying free. Ren bends down and begins whispering, what I hope are strongly worded admonishments, fiercely into her ear.

Mortified, I finally turn to Ko who is looking at me thoughtfully. I can’t get myself to say anything, so instead wait for either a black hole to come and swallow me whole or for him to speak first.

“You really didn’t forget his name?” He finally asks. 

That is not what I was expecting and I stutter back incredulously, “I remembered almost every detail about how he looks and acts, why would I forget his name?”

“Name’s are tricky things.” He hums, looking away and back at the statue.

“Uh. Okay?” Is he going to pretend like Rumi never opened her mouth just now? Because I could work with that. I could totally work with that. 

He seems to come to some internal decision and reaches out, tentatively almost, to lay a hand on the statue’s head. “Fictional or not, any person who exudes notable traits deserves to be used as the stick others measure themselves against. I think it is truly humbling that Haku is your standard of measure.” 

Ren stops whispering and stares at us confusedly. “What?” he gapes, hand falling.

“Seriously, what?” Rumi echoes, finally free.

I have to admit, I’m also rather dumbstruck. Remi just flat out told him that I compare all of my boyfriends to a make-believe dragon from when I was a kid, and he thinks that it’s totally normal? More than that, _humbling_? Verses…say…insulting — as all of my exes found in to be, when they figured things out?

Ko shrugs. “Just what I said. Chihiro just told me that for her, Haku was a very important, and very real, part of her life as a child and, through her work, he continues to be so today. It would be unfair to expect her to just forget about him.”

“But he _isn’t_ real!” Rumi sputters. Just who’s side is she on, again??

“Isn’t he?”

“I just said he isn’t!”

“Well, what would be the qualifying factors to make him real, then?”

“Not existing as a figment of Chihiro’s imagination, for one!” she throws up her hands, and even Ren winces in apologetic agreement.

“But he doesn’t.” Ko presses on, “He exists in pages of books all over the world, in the minds of thousands of children, becoming an actual force of change, somebody they can turn to and rely on. You don’t need a human body to still be a person. Look, “ he turns from the statue to me, eyes charged with some unnameable emotion, “he’s standing right in front of you — _right_ in front of you. He _is_ real.”

I hold his gaze, both in wonder and bewilderment, and it only breaks when Rumi lets out a wheezing laugh and we both turn to her. “Well I’ll be damned, Chihiro, it sounds like this guy is just as nuts as Japan’s leading psychiatric children’s book author.” She continues to laugh, like it’s the funniest thing, Ren shaking his head with a smile.

Ko seems to deflate momentarily before shaking his head once and catching my gaze one more time. He gives me a small smile, shrugging one shoulder in an attempt to play off his impassioned outburst, but it only forces me into action. Like before, when I grabbed his hand, I stumble forward, reaching out, but this time it is with my arms. I wrap him in a tight hug, burying my face in his shoulder as Rumi’s laugh cuts off sharply in the background. As much as I love Rumi, she has never truly understood just how important Haku is to me, beyond being the main character of my book and the catalyst of my rise in success over the past year or two. No one has. Ko is the first person in my life who hasn't questioned my belief in Haku, in his ability to work positive change and help people — including myself. Not only that, but he has gone one step further in matching my singular beliefs, standing up for them as well as defending both me and Haku. To say I am affected is a bit of an understatement.

“Thank you.” I choke out in a near whisper. “Thank you so much.”

After a moment, he also moves, one hand coming up to cup the back of my head, the other placed gently against the small of my back. He replies, his voice rumbling through his chest and against my forehead, the two words laced with such sincerity and warmth that I have to squeeze my eyes shut tight against the moisture collecting in them. “You’re welcome, Chihiro.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are coyotes howling right outside my window at this very moment and it is mildly terrifying holy crap


	3. New and Old Friendships

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, friends! Thank you SO much for sticking with me and my story :’) ! Basically, ever since Ko showed up, this fic. has been filled with crying/angst, which can become heavy-handed, but which I thought was necessary to the development of the story. I’m glad it hasn't frightened you all away, though haha. Having said that, I try to intersperse such heavy moments with more lighthearted/comedic ones :) Even though i have it tagged as a “slow build”, i hope that the pace isn't glacial (please let me know if it is ahaha). Also, I hope the chapters are long enough! I tend to keep them on the shorter side, only because pounding out pages and pages tends to zap me of creativity and my writing stalls to a halt -- short(ish) and sweet is more my style :P  
> Also, WELCOME to all you new followers/subscribers/kudoers/random-stumble-uponers! I sincerely hope you enjoy this fic and feel free to comment with concerns/questions/suggestions etc. I love your input and 100000% appreciate it! You are what fuel me to try and crank work out as quickly as possible and to not leave you hanging for so long!  
> Pleeeasseeee let me know what you think, and if you really, really want to, share this fic. with other awesome Spirited Away fans <3  
> Alright then, enough of my dithering. Again, a HUGE thank you to you all! I really hope you enjoy!  
> xo

I let myself hold Ko and be held by him for a long moment before pulling away with a shaky smile. Gratefully, Rumi remains mute where she stands, no doubt shocked by the strength of my emotional outburst, and I don't blame her. While she and I are incredibly open in our friendship with each other, basically sisters, I have always had those very few thoughts and feelings I never felt comfortable voicing, and my reliance on Haku the mythical being is one of them. Even though I was able to grow into a strong, independent person, despite my childhood insecurities and pathologies, I still had moments of darkness where I felt lost and alone. It's a part of being so alive, I think, to sometimes feel so dead inside; a strange paradox brought on by any number of things, one that so many people are sadly familiar with. But in those moments, it was the memories of my childhood, of light, laughter, loyalty and sustaining love and friendship, which buoyed me forward — memories centered around Haku. Memories which I cherished but, seeing how they helped me, knew could do the same for others, leading me on this current path in life. In that way, Haku very literally made me who I am today. This is the first time Rumi is truly getting a glimpse into this hidden reality of mine, and I am thankful that she seems to realize the significance of it.

Ko returns my smile, his hands resting lightly on my shoulders giving them a small squeeze before letting go, and turning to the others. "What time does your girls's next bus come, do you know?" he asks. Rather than seem dismissive of all that just occurred, his question relaxes me as it stops any immediate questions from pouring off of my best friends tongue and adding to the already emotionally charged atmosphere.

Rumi seems to stumble as she blinks out of the stupor this new reveal of information has put her in. "Oh, um, I uh — babe?" she turns to Remi confusedly, evidently still processing.

Remi pulls out his phone, seeming suspiciously nonplussed (what happened to the gaping guy from before?) as he taps at the screen before pulling up the right information. "We have about 10 minutes."

"Perfect." Ko claps his hands briskly, setting us into unspoken action. We make our way back to the path and I glance back at the fierce statue, sending a little wave over my shoulder. As I turn forward again, I notice that Ko has watched the exchange, but he only grins and does the same — with much less restraint than I did, arm raised in the air and swinging back and forth like a mad pendulum, making me giggle.

Later, as we stand by the bus-stop in contemplative silence, I hesitantly link my arm through Ko's. He blinks down at me, startled, but only hums warmly before returning his gaze to the flow of traffic before us. There is nothing romantic about how we stand connected, and I am pleased by how comforting that is. Instead, there is only a pure sense of companionship borne of the acceleration of a friendship and mutual understanding that would have taken weeks to organically progress, but which instead unfolded over the course of a single night. While true that I cannot deny that Ko is incredibly attractive, in this moment I know that while this began as an unwilling blind-date with uncertain romantic outcomes, through the honest sharing of deep secrets and emotions followed by their immediate acceptance, it has unquestionably resulted in the forging of a genuine friendship. I pull my arm more tightly through his until my cheek is pressed into his shoulder, and smile brightly at nothing. The possibilities of this new bond scroll through my mind and a warmth spreads through my limbs from where our arms link and where my cheek rubs against his scratchy sweater. Deep down, I know I have found a true friend, to whatever end.

The irony that, once again, it was Haku who has unwittingly steered my life in a positive direction doesn't escape me. I mentally send my make-believe dragon well deserved kisses as Ko lets out a contented sigh.  
. xxx . While I appreciated Rumi's silence, I know it won't last long. Having hugged the guys goodbye and boarded our bus, we waved at them through the windows until they were lost in the glare of the headlights of other cars. I turned to Rumi expectantly, but she only looked at me, brows furrowed. Her eyes bored into mine with such intensity that I began to find it hard to return the look, and I cleared my throat in what I hoped was an eliciting manner.

After another uncomfortable moment, Rumi let out an exasperated breath before flopping back in her seat, head hung back forlornly. "I'm sorry I'm such an oblivious and inconsiderate ass." It's not the first topic I expected her to address (re: Ko).

"Rumi —" I began scoldingly.

"No, Chihiro. It's true. I can be so self-centered and caught up in my own crap sometimes, I totally overlook the obvious." She now tilts her head towards me, still leaned back against the headrest. "I have literally known you longer than I haven't known you. It's so wild, isn't it? You would think that knowing a person for such a great period of time would mean that you, like, _really_ know them, but there's only so much time can do if you don't open your damn eyes." She demonstrates this by closing them briefly before snapping them open again, wide enough to bulge slightly.

"Rumi, come on, it's not that big a deal." I try to reassure her, feeling bad (and also kinda creeped out by her bulgy eye display. As well as concerned — can she burst vessels doing this??).

"You come on, Chihiro. You're too nice. You call me out on my bullshit when it negatively impacts my life, but never when it hurts your own. It's okay, it's the truth — I was completely oblivious, and a complete ass, and if I had just pulled my head out of my own butt I would have seen how genuinely important this really was to you. Maybe I could have helped you, instead of making you rely on a person who, okay I get it, is real to you, but like isn't actually real? Maybe I could have been there for you when you needed me, and instead I wasn't, and you were alone and I feel terrible, Chihiro, I really do, because you deserve so much more than a shitty, self-centered friend, and I am so, so sorry, and you know I always liked Haku, even though he kinda scared me with his whole snarly face thing, and then there's the whole being your imaginary friend thing which is kinda like eerie, lets be honest, but you're my best friend and I know I'm rambling but I really feel so bad and —"

"Oh shut up already, will you?" I laugh, pulling her into a tight embrace. She does, and returns the tight hold. "What's done is done. I have never resented you for this, Rumi, and I myself never gathered the courage to share it with you." I lean back and gently grip her face between my hands to emphasize my words. "You are my best friend. I would be lying if I said it wasn't hard at times, but they say that the best blaze burns brightest when circumstances are at their worst. My reliance on a "real, not-real" creature led me to this life I now lead, and I can say without a shadow of a doubt that I would not be happier anyway or anywhere else. You cannot blame yourself for not knowing when I did my best to hide. Instead, see how the past, the good and bad, brought me to this beautiful city, living with my closest friend, helping others. It is lovely, Rumi. Life. It has its ups and downs…It's hard to stick with it and make it on your own. But even a couple of losers can survive most things if they're together. Being my friend was enough, I promise you."

"Are you saying that I'm your loser?" she sniffles.

"I'm saying,” I grin softly.

She pulls my hands from her cheeks and holds them in her own, giving them an amicable peck on the knuckles before lowering them to her lap where she presses them tightly between her fingers. "Thank you for being such a good friend to me. I promise I will become worthy of your loyalty and patience." she bows formally over our clasp.

"Oh my goodness, Rumi, I swear. In one ear and out the other — I told you you are my best friend, what are you saying 'become worthy bla bla bla'?!" I sputter, feeling flustered, before pulling one of my hands away and smacking her in the back of her conveniently lowered head.

She straightens with a grumble, rubbing the spot, "Ow! I was just sayin'!"

"Yeah, well quit it. I meant what I told you." I thrust my finger in her face in an order.

"Well so did I. Maybe you are satisfied with the give and take of our friendship, but you are also very selfless. I will try to be the same."

"You already —"

"Chihiro, follow your own advice and just shut up, will ya?" she laughs.

I settle into my seat and cross my arms, muttering "I take it back. You're a terrible friend."

"Don't forget — I'm a loser, too."

I crack a smile and elbow her in the ribs, "That, too. But so am I."

"Oh Lord, a huge one. Like, massive nerd alert." She half stands and raises her arm to point down at me, speaking in a loud voice, "Everyone, we have a huge nerd on the bus! I repeat: a giant, laaaaaame —"

I grab her arm and jerk her into her seat as the only three other people on such a late route smirk or glare at us before turning back away disinterestedly. "I hate you much." I moan.

"Hehe! I know!" She sings before throwing an arm around my shoulder which I lean into with an eye roll.  
.  
xxx  
.  
Back at our apartment, Rumi finally seems to remember the rest of the evening. "Holy crap, you totally made out with Ko."

"What?!" I splutter, "Are you blind? We hugged! Lips were never even involved!"

"Tch, semantics."

"I don not think that word means what you think it means."

"Tch, semiotics."

"Save me." I plead upwardly. I scoop up a pillow from our couch and sling it at her head as I walk past her towards my bedroom, the soft thud and following yelp confirming impact and bringing a self-satisfied grin to my lips. Ten points for Gryffindor. Or, rather, Hufflepuff (I'm a particularly good finder, I guess. Or, in this case, pillow flinger.).

Footsteps patter after me and a loud "Oof!" is forced from my lungs as Rumi's body flying through the air colides with mine, sending me sprawling across the hall. She quickly sits up, pinning me beneath her as she spits her hair out of her mouth and haphazardly pushes it from her eyes. "Admit it!" she pants, “ _Something_ happened."

"I _just_ told you we hugged." I glare up, trying to dislodge her with little success. "What more do you want?"

"Uh-uh. That was waay more than just a "hug" and we both know it. Actually, hugs. As in _plural_. As in _many_ hugs."

I stop struggling and throw my hands up in exasperation. "We're just friends right now, Rumi! A hug doesn't have to be romantic. You literally have me pinned to the ground right now and there is _nothing_ sexy about it."

"I don't know, I think some would say it's kinda sexy."

“ _Rumi_."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know what you mean. But still. Nothing? No sparks? No warm and fuzzies"

"I don't know. Let's be honest, a lot happened. But I definitely want to see him again and get to know him better. That's something, isn't it?"

"Hmph. I guess." She concedes, sliding off of me. I stand and continue towards my room with a huff while she remains cross legged on the floor, lips pursed. I just make it to my door when when calls down the hall, sounding triumphant. "You said 'right now!'"

"What?" I turn, hand on the nob.

She sways side to side in a smug little dance. "You said "we're just friends _right now_ “. Sounds pretty promising to me!"

I stare at her in disbelief before shaking my head with a couple blinks and shutting myself into my room. The thin door does little to muffle the sound of her self-fulfilled cackle, though.

.

xxxxxxxxxx

.

 

Dust motes travel lazily through the golden colored light filtering in through the crack in my blinds, illuminating a strip across my bed. It’s a Saturday, and I took the opportunity to sleep in, waking up only when my own body decided to — not according to the shrieks of an alarm clock. A clock which currently reads 11:30. Damn, I really did sleep in. I stretch with a groan of pleasure but make no move to get up, despite the fact that it’s basically lunch time. Reaching out, I let my fingers play through the stripe of light, buffering the dust motes here and there, as I recall the dream I just had — though Nightmare is much more accurate a description.

In my nightmare, I was falling through the air; Not Alice in Wonderland style — it was a full on plummet through the clouds towards the earth which was approaching at a horrifying speed. One hand reached out for someone, though I couldn't turn my head to see who — all I knew was that deep down, I felt more afraid for them than I did myself. Underlying the visceral terror of falling was a constant litany that repeated in the back of my mind, compounding the chaos and fear: I couldn't remember my name. As I fell to what would most assuredly be my death, I couldn't remember my name, who I was, and I couldn't process this fact. My life was about to end, but I couldn't even remember who’s life it was. As panic bloomed bright within me, a fiery pain spreading and blotting out rational thought, coolness suddenly took hold, stifling my hysteria, as the person I couldn't see finally clasped my hand. With the contact the panic fled, and in the empty space it left, a word began to form: my name. My neck finally began to move, and as I went to turn my head to look at the person who’s hand I held, as my name began to form right on the tip of my tongue, I woke up. 

I let out an exasperated sigh as I remember and shakily rub my hand over my chest, trying to calm the uneasiness that tries to spread with the remembering. It was just a stupid dream. My name is Chihiro and I am NOT falling out of the sky anytime soon. Or ever, for that matter. If that means never taking an airplane again, to placate my paranoia, then so be it. 

This decided, I finally drag myself up and out of my room to rustle up some breakfast/lunch.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty!” Rumi chirps at me from where she lounges upside down on the couch. Her feet rest on the wall and her hair falls into a silky pile on the floor, a magazine held suspended above her. “Where’s the prince who woke you?”

“He learned about these things called egalitarianism and feminism and figured I wouldn't take kindly to being kissed without my permission while in a vulnerable state like sleeping.”

“Well okay, then.” she comments drily, managing to turn a page with a swiftness that literally defies gravity. 

“I haven’t had coffee.” I grumble by way of both explanation and apology as I make my way to our kitchenette. She only snorts in reply. Too lazy to properly brew a pot, I reach for the instant and make use of the microwave before returning to the living room and settling down next to Rumi with a contented sigh. “Caffeine,” I smile over the rim. 

“Ugh, is that commoner’s coffee?” Rumi wrinkles her nose at me from the floor. As goofy as this girl is, she is a total and complete snob when it comes to coffee and tea, which is both amusing and annoying as all hell.

I swat one of her feet as it drifts too close to my head. “It is a means to an end, and one that is far less awful than you make it out to be.”

She rests the magazine on her chest and looks at me in sympathy, clucking her tongue sadly, “You have so much to learn, young one.” Now it’s my turn to snort. “By the way, Ren called about a half hour ago. He said that Ko had a really good time, and they both want to go out again tonight, if you’re willing.” She says this while picking her magazine back up, but watches for my reaction out of the corner of her eye. She’s not as sly as she thinks she is, and I glare at her pointedly. She huffs and tosses the magazine onto a pile of others on a side table before sliding off the couch and then taking a proper seat next to me. “So?” she pokes me in the ribs. “Yes? No? Maybe so?”

My brows furrow as I inhale the steam from my mug. “Did he say what they wanted to do?” After last night, I definitely want to meet with Ko again, but we ended things on a strictly platonic note — I don’t want to do anything too “date-y”. And I had also kind of been hoping to have the day to truly process the night’s events. Lots of blushing, lots of apologizing, lots of revelations, lots of thanking, and lots of crying. 

Angst. So much angst. 

But also a new friend. A weirdly close one, already. I wanted time to let things settle into my mind.

Rumi shrugs and makes an “I don’t know” sound. “Just dinner, maybe go on a walk again. Ooh! Maybe we could go mini golfing! Girls vs boys.” She brings her arms up in a ninja pose at this last bit to demonstrate that we, the girls, would most definitely be the ass whoopers in this scenario. 

I consider and nod slowly. While I’m nervous to see how things will stand with Ko, despite the positive note we left on last night, and despite not having the time to process this new person in my life, I’m excited to see him again. Crying and mortification aside, I really did have a good time, somehow. 

Rumi crows in delight and jumps up, “I’ll call and let him know now,” before skittering into her room and to her phone.

I take another sip of coffee with a smile on my face. Ko and I _did_ part on good terms, I emphasize to myself. I don't need to take the day to give myself a mental shake down over everything that happened — tonight will be fun. And besides, I think, my smile turning to a frown, I really don't want to spend the day dwelling, when the stark memory of that dream is so fresh in my mind, pressing to the front of my thoughts. Getting ready and going out tonight will be a good distraction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think the next chapter is kinda hilarious (then again, Rumi in every scene is so much fun to write, including this chapter). I can't wait to post it and see what you all think :)
> 
> P.S. I now have a tumblr for this fic! http://kalipeda.tumblr.com  
> I will be tracking the tags "fic: the spirit never forgets" and "fic: tsnf"


	4. It Is Enough

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to get this posted -- my little brother was in a near fatal accident that left him hospitalized in the i.c.u., where he has been for a week, now. He is doing much better now, though, thank God! Any positive vibes/prayers you would be willing to send his way would mean the world! 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this next chapter! It is hella long, at least compared to my normal chapter length. I also have a crap ton of notes at the end that explain a bunch of meanings behind names, dates etc which you might find interesting!
> 
> Enjoy and please let me know what you think! Thank you!!
> 
> x

“Nooooo!” Rumi cries dramatically while falling to her knees, her arms held up and open in supplication to the mini-golfing gods. We are at the seventh of nine holes and her ball just missed going in. Again. The score is 62 to 34. Those ninja skills Rumi purported to exhibit have clearly abandoned her; we are being slaughtered. 

When Rumi does not move from her pose of crisis, Ren edges in front of her and crouches down to her eye level. “Babe? You kinda have to try again since, you know, you didn't get it in…” he trails off with a wince and I clap my hand over my mouth to hold in the laughter trying to escape. When I look over, Ko is also struggling not to lose it. While the two of us are taking the game lightly, Rumi is viciously competitive, as is Ren, though his own aggression is noticeably tampered by his concern for his girlfriend who is taking our losses quite hardly. 

“Why?” she looks at him, eyes sparkling with what I am pretty sure are unshed tears. “Why is this happening to me?”

“Because you suck.” I finally bust out, unable to contain myself any longer. Of our 62 points, the vast majority were earned by Rumi. I got a hole-in-one and a few pars for the course. The rest of the damage was done by her.

She finally jumps up from the ground, mini-club swinging dangerously through the air, “It’s not fair!” she shouts, drawing glances from a family who plays one hole over. “All it is is hitting _that_ ball, “ she stabs with her finger, “with _this_ stick”, she waves the club in front of her, “into _that_ hole!” She stomps over to said offending hole and then proceeds to literally stomp on it. 

“Ookay, I think it’s time for an ice-cream break, right guys?” Ren quickly slings his arm around Rumi’s waist and bodily drags her away as she continues stomping like a 5 year old. The Father from the family nearby quickly ushers his kids to the next hole with furtive, backwards glances. 

Ko and I collect the golfballs and score cards and trail the duo to the concession stand. 

“She really doesn't like losing, does she?” he laughs softly.

“Noo, she does not.” I grin. 

“You’re pretty good at this game, though.” He glances at the score cards in his hand, “Really good, actually. Were you secretly a put-put champion back in the day?” he teases. 

“You got me. I went to World’s, you know. Placed second place globally.” I answer with a straight face.

He stumbles. “Wait, really?”

“No!”

“You seemed so serious, I really believed you for a second there.”

“I noticed.” I laugh. “I’ve just had more practice than Rumi quieting and ordering my thoughts. Less distraction, more focus, more hole-in-ones,” I wink. And then quickly look forward. I actually just winked. Gross. But Ko only smiles.

“Makes sense, I guess.” He continues somewhat more hesitantly, “When you say more practice quieting your thoughts, you mean like what we talked about last night?”

We’ve reached the stand now, and I turn to Ko resolutely, forcing the embarrassment that usually rears its head when I go to talk about Haku and my childhood issues away. I know Ko does not judge me for these things, things we have already discussed. I just have to remind myself of this and not be afraid to open up even more about them. 

“Yes.” 

Well, baby steps, I guess. At least I was able to answer. 

Rumi has calmed down, by this point — she no longer swings her club like it’s an axe she plans on using to decapitate innocent bystanders with — and Ren has already ordered us all ice creams. We take the bowls and pay for them before wandering over to the giant duck pond which serves as part of the mini-golf course’s draw. Picnic tables line the pond’s edge with a little machine near the concession stand where you can exchange money for duck food. Said ducks float lazily across the pond’s surface, fat and content, barely making the effort to fish up the pellets a small group of children giddily throws at them right now. We pick a table under the shade of a tree and watch the gaggle of children continue to shower the ducks with a rain of food as we enjoy our ice cream.

“Feeling better?” I smile and Rumi only hmphs in response, no doubt disappointed in my own lack of mini-golf ambition, though her bitterness is half-hearted at best. 

Ko reads into this exchange just as well and adds impishly, “If not she can sit out the last few holes — you do well enough, Chihiro, that you ladies won’t gain many more points if she doesn't play.”

“Not that it’ll make much of a difference at this point.” Ren can’t help but mutter under his breath. 

Rumi freezes, ice cream half way to her mouth, before setting it down and marching away. 

“Awe, come one babe, we were only kidding!” Ren calls after her.

“What is she doing?” Ko leans towards me, eyes tracking my friend as she reaches the group of kids.

“I have no idea.”

From this distance, we can’t hear what Rumi says to the kids, though something appears to exchange hands as Rumi’s own go to and from her pocket multiple times.

“Wha-?” Before Ren can finish voicing what we all are thinking, Rumi is marching back towards the table, fire in her eyes. Ren begins to stand, hands held up placatingly against, well, none of us are sure yet — but it’s coming, whatever it is. I duck into Ko’s side unconsciously, cringing down as Rumi reaches into her pockets and…flings…duck food. 

What?

My incredulity is quickly replaced with a yelp, however, as the little pellets, which are surprisingly hard, make contact with my arm which I did not pull back fast enough, also landing on and ruining all of our ice creams. 

“Babe!” Ren gasps. She only reaches into her pockets again, circling the table to better hit us all. More pellets fly. 

The three of us are met with an onslaught of the stinky, unexpectedly effective projectile weapons, that are duck food. I shriek and burrow into Ko’s side now as he roars with laughter, shielding me with his arms and torso. 

“Babe, no! Babe!” Ren pleads as he races around the table, Rumi on his heels, alternating between flinging food at his back and then in our direction as they continue round and round. 

At this point I am also laughing from the safety of Ko’s body, my fingers clutching his side for balance. After a few more rounds around the table, the pellets stop flying, and I straighten from Ko sheepishly. I can't help but wonder if he takes longer than one normally would to pull his arms from around me, if the way his fingers brush against the nape of my neck is done on purpose or accidentally. I watch him with wide eyes, but his own are set on Rumi. Accidental, then, I realize, and turn my own attention to where his is centered. Rumi, for her part, acts like she didn't just assault her friends with duck food for a solid couple of minutes and calmly takes her seat. Remi slowly makes his way back to his own as well, though he keeps his arms up in case its a trap and he needs to suddenly ward off another attack. 

We all watch in caution as Rumi picks all the pellets from her ice cream before taking a bite with a smile. “Now I feel better.”

.  
.  
xxxx  
.  
.

 

We stand at the last hole where the boys currently have their turn. Rumi and I stand to the side.

“I still don’t understand why I was one of your victims. I’m on your team!”

“You were sitting right next to Ko, it was unavoidable. Sacrifices must be made in war.”

“Rumi, this is put-put, and despite what your earlier attack might indicate, you’re a pacifist.”

“Yeah, well, you know.”

“I really, really don’t.” I assure her with a grimace and a laugh. 

“At least it gave you an excuse to get comfy with Ko.” She sidles close and waggles her brows at me. 

I push her none to gently and she skitters sidewise with a snicker. “Do you not remember what I told you last night?”

“Yeah, you said _for now_.” she taunts.

“I said _just friends_.”

“But —“

I cut her off, “I really like Ko, Rumi. Honestly, I do.”

“Well, then, what’s the problem?”

“The problem is that I don't want there to be one.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“I’m not so sure Ko is interested in me in that way. And our friendship is already unconventional — so much was exchanged so soon. I don't want to force more between us. I don't want to push him away. I like him too much for that.”

She pauses before continuing, “You’re scared he doesn't feel the same.”

I nod.

“I had no idea. Oh man, I’m so sorry Chihiro. I wouldn't have made you two such a big deal if I had.”

“It’s alright, Rumi. I didn't really realize it myself until just before.” And it’s the truth — only under Rumi’s duck-food attack did I realize I had been lying to myself this whole time. I remember the feeling of being wrapped securely in Ko’s arms, his side warm and solid beneath my fingers. How I felt happy and safe. How when his fingers swept across the back of my neck I had to suppress a shudder from traveling down my spine, how shocked I was to find that I liked it, wanted him to do it again. To do more. But he wasn't even aware that he had done it. It was an accidental touch in the midst of fooling around with friends — yet I was completely affected by it. It was unfair of me to react that way when Ko had no intention of eliciting such a response. I didn't even want to picture how he would feel if he found out. Scandalized? Maybe. Certainly uncomfortable, though. His actions were of a friend towards a friend, only. My response?…Not so much. 

Bottom line: despite my previous protestations, I was attracted to Ko, impacted by his touch and…he wasn’t. With this realization, one thought emerged clearly from the confusion of opposing impressions and emotions, what I had thought and convinced both myself and Rumi of, and what had just presented itself as the actual truth: I couldn't lose him. From the first moment our eyes met, even though I only imagined reading so many deep feelings in his gaze, I still felt a connection. A connection that was strengthened over the course of last evening and even today, though our conversation today was much lighter in comparison. Perhaps it was that lightheartedness in our interactions today which actually solidified things, that I am drawn to Ko. And I do not want to lose him. So I will make sure I don’t. 

“I am such an asshole.”

“Rumi, I just said it’s alright.”

“Here I go again, barreling forward with my own plans, not even taking into account how you might feel —“

“Rumi.”

“Trying to force you to date a guy you're not even interested in and —“

“Rumi!” she finally quiets and turns to me. “Remember that other thing I told you last night?” I wrap my arm around her shoulders. 

“What?”

“Shut up.”

“Right.”

We lose our game outrageously. Rumi throws her club into the duck pond. Ko nearly pees he laughs so hard. 

.  
..  
......  
.........  
\---xxxxxxx---  
.........  
......  
..  
.

It has been a little over a week since Rumi’s Mini-Golf Meltdown — or as Ren affectionally refers to it: the cheaper MGM Grand — but I’ve spent every night since in the company of my three friends. Despite Rumi’s cries for a put-put rematch, we congregate at the Ramen shop after which we always wander over to the park; our evenings are simple and sweet, marked by good food, better company, and warm weather. We all agree that we love the night time, the sounds of cicadas and the sparks of lightening bugs lending it the singular feeling that time has come to a halt. With the murmur of city noises relegated to the background, surrounded by gardens and the night sky, time suddenly stops and, consequently, feels infinite, our possibilities endless. So we run around like teenagers, playing manhunt in the dark. We squander our night-begotten potential as all young people do: by forgetting our responsibilities, but in the best ways possible. We give in to the thrill of running through dew slicked grass in the dark, the wind buoying us forward; to gasping for air between laughs and shrieks of discovery. We rely on the moon to guide us as we strain for sounds of leaves being disturbed, hearts pumping as we hide in shadows. We spend our nights in the simplest of ways which has the most profound effect of bringing us joy and bonding us closer together. Who knew hide and go seek tag in the dark could be so damn deep. 

Ko and I continue to grow closer as friends. When we all lie in the grass, exhausted, satisfied, and bickering about who actually won, we stare at the stars. In the face of something so uncomprehendingly vast we all feel tiny, our problems even tinier, and we open up with each other. I learn that Ko manages a bath house — family business, practically, he says. He has no parents, though he has a grandmother he adores, a great-aunt he despises, a bossy older sister and a kind, if grumpy, uncle. I ask what happened to his parents, but he never answers and I don't press the issue. His birthday is November 21, 1988. His favorite color is dark blue. He is indifferent about his work itself, but stays in the business for those the bathhouse employs — he is afraid that leaving the bathhouse to his great-aunt might hurt them in many ways. He loves cherry blossom season and swimming, hates riding in airplanes (they are too confining), and greatly dislikes mushrooms. 

I learn these little things about Ko, but through them a greater picture emerges. He has an extremely dry sense of humor, though silly quips are not beneath him, and a love for intellectual conversation. He is drawn to beautiful things, not only in the literal sense of art and history, but also ideals — by his omission of deeper personal information I can tell he has lived a troubled past, but he bears it admirably, harnessed into a worldview of hope and optimism; he sees the capacity for good in everyone, believes in forgiveness and second chances. He is generous and kind. Not one for showy or grand gestures, he appreciates the little things, takes notice of the usual and mundane and sees it as lovely — magical, even. He is stoic but sensitive: firm in his beliefs, loyal to a fault, ready to defend those he cares for at the drop of a hat, but unwilling to even kill a bug. He is a wonderful listener and perceptive of other’s true feelings and emotions. Simply put, Ko is too good to be true. 

Every night this picture of Ko becomes more clear and I go home listening to Rumi bemoan the situation. Now that she knows that I do, in fact, feel interest in Ko beyond mere friendship, she seems more heartbroken about my unwillingness to make any kind of advance than I am. But if anything, as I come to understand his character more, I grow more resolute in my decision to not act. If Ko-the-friend is too good to be true, Ko-the-something-more is unbelievable, impossible. 

_I know you are set in this, and I am not trying to push you, but let me ask you this one question, Chihiro.” Rumi turns to me during one bus ride home, “Is it because you don't think you’re good enough? Because I swear I will strangle you if that’s why you’re really afraid to try and initiate a romantic relationship.”  
She is so serious as she asks this that I don’t respond immediately — I want her to know that I am putting genuine thought into her question. When I do answer, it is sincerely, “I know I am good enough, Rumi. I do. I know I have worth and deserve good things in life. I feel like Ko is most definitely one of those good things. I feel incredibly connected to him — I don’t know why, but I do — and I don’t need to date him to feel the same level of happiness and affection that I already do simply being his friend. It’s not that I am not enough, but rather that my friendship with Ko is enough.”_

And it’s true. Our friendship is enough — more than enough. I feel so blessed to have met this man and, in such a short time, come to count him as a dear friend. I know this, deep in my heart: it is enough. 

But still.

I have to repeat it to myself when we hug goodbye, muscle and skin cradling me gently but firmly.

_It is enough._

When he reaches out and casually tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, fingertips trailing heat along my cheek.

_It is enough._

When I realize I’ve been rambling about the stories in my books and childhood, about Haku, and instead of disinterest I am met with green eyes wide in awe and understanding.

_It is enough, it is enough, it is enough._

Sometimes it is harder to remember than other times. 

.  
...  
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.........  
\---xxxxxxx---  
.........  
......  
...  
.

 

“Holy shit. Rumi, pinch me — no, no, that’s not enough. Hit me.”

She shrugs, unfazed by the strange request, and, perhaps a bit too eagerly, whacks me across the back of the head. 

I wince, but the grin that has been on my face this whole time never falters “Holy shit. It’s real.”

Curiosity replaces the light gleam of sadism that had shown in her eyes (jerk) as she moves to stand beside me, taking in the piece of mail clutched in my hands. “Holy shit,” she breathes, lifting an arm and pinching it. Seeming dazed, she pinches again before I kindly repay her favor, smacking the back of her head. “Holy shit,” she repeats. 

A mess of envelopes and advertisements are strewn across the floor where I dropped them, and we walk over them to sit on the couch where she pries the letter from my hands to read it again. “This is…“

“Yupp.”

“You…”

“Yupp.”

“Holy shit.”

I let out a breath through my nose, heavy with astonishment. “They’re going to turn my books into a movie.” As the words leave my mouth, their meaning seems to finally penetrate the shock. “They’re going to turn my books into a movie!” And suddenly I am laughing and so is Rumi as she pulls me up and into her arms as we jump like exited teenagers, shrieking. “They’re going to turn my books into a movie!!!”

For months now, my publishing agent had been hinting at something like this becoming a reality, but I never thought that he would be successful in his endeavors to secure me a contract. Even though my books were hugely successful in the fields of psychology and childhood development, that did not necessarily mean that they would translate well to the big screen or be well received. But in the face of the great possibility that this news affords me, these worries fell away. I am incredibly excited. Not only will I be able to see my works come alive in ways I’ve never before seen, but they will also reach a wider audience through this medium, help even more people. I am thrilled. 

“I have to call Ko and let him know!” I still clutch the letter in my hands, reading and rereading the first few lines.

_Dear Ogino-San,_

_It is with great pleasure that we here at Studio Ghibli begin a new project with you based on your books, for which we have finalized the rights to. We are incredibly excited to work with you and to promote your message…._

“Shouldn’t you call your agent first, let him know you got the news?” Rumi interrupts.

Her comment has me feeling strangely deflated. “I’m sure he does already, he’s the one who mediated the entire thing anyway.”

“Yeah, but this is a big deal, Chihiro. It’s official. You need to be professional about this, even if you don't want to talk to him, and there will be time to celebrate later.”

I frown at her, annoyed. I really don't want to talk to my agent — I want to share this news with Ko, and I find her commonsense attitude out of character and incredibly ill-timed. 

She seems to catch onto my train of thought and rolls her eyes, “I know, I know, I’m being a fun-sucker here, but seriously — this is important! I just want everything to work out.”

Remembering the excitement we shared before, and touched by how much she obviously cares about me and this deal, I grudgingly give in. “Fine. But while I’m on the phone, you text the boys and let them know.”

“Oh, of course!” She twinkles, phone already in hand, as I make my way over to my own.

Scrolling through my contacts, I find my agent. Instead of a name, there is a poop emoji. With a small grimace, I bring the phone to my ear, and after a few rings, he picks up.

“Congratulations, Hiro,” a deep voice oozes without any preamble.

My grimace deepens. “Stop calling me that,” I snap. “It’s a boy’s name.”

I can hear his smirk, “That never bothered you before.”

Gritting my teeth I manage not rise to his taunt. “Okay, so now you know I know. Nice talk. Byye!”

“Wait, Chihiro!” he calls loudly enough that I can hear his voice even though I’ve lifted the phone away to hang up. “Now put the phone back to your ear.” This proof that he knows me so well has me feeling even more irritated but I bring the phone back, and after a few seconds he continues without even verifying that I have done so— he just assumes that I followed his order. It only pisses me off more that he’s actually right. “These next few weeks are going to be very hectic and very important, and it is critical that you and I remain in close contact, which means no more ignoring my calls and emails. Studio Ghibli wants to fly us out to Tokyo for a week to start brainstorming the film and character designs, as well.”

“Can I bring anyone with me?” I cut in.

“Chihiro,” he sounds exasperated, “I just spent the last 12 weeks negotiating my ass off to get us this deal, let’s not push our luck.” 

Us. Our. “I’m not spending seven days alone with you,” I spit.

“Really, Chihiro, I thought we were past this,” he scolds, making me feel all of 5 years old. “If one of your friends is willing to pay for an airplane or train ticket to get themselves out to Tokyo, pay for their hotel room, and then proceed to sit in said hotel room for 10 hours a day for all 7 days while you and I sit in meetings, then by all means invite someone.”

“Maybe I will.” I grumble, stubbornly refusing to concede his point. He sighs.

“Hiro, there’s a reason you kept me on as your agent — I’m damn good at it. Let me do my job. Don’t let our past issues interfere with this incredible opportunity; we’ve both worked too hard getting here to waste it. We agreed that we could continue in a business capacity, and I’ve upheld my side of the bargain, now you need to do the same.”

His words fill me with shame, knowing he’s right. Despite everything that happened and the way he still goads me when we speak with each other, he has worked tirelessly to help promote my work and make me the success I am, and he’s done it all without holding a grudge. I have to do the same. “I’m sorry, Hisashi, you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right, I’m always right. Now meet me at the office in two hours so we can discuss the contract in person, I’ll order us something to eat.” And he hangs up.

Clutching my phone, I close my eyes and take deep breaths. _Studio Ghibli,_ I remind myself. _You can do this, you can work with that cocky, know it all. Even if he is an ass, look what he did for you: Studio-friggin-Ghibli._ I will reign in the inevitable surge of murderous intent that being in his company draws out of me and instead act like a rational adult. No matter how much he provokes me, no matter how pompous or domineering he acts, I will get along with him and refrain from trying to strangle him. I can do this. I will not kill my ex-boyfriend. 

.  
.  
xxxx  
.  
.

Three hours later, I sit in a plush chair in an office made of steel and glass, my posture stiff and aloof. Across from me sits a tall, well-muscled man. His heritage is mixed and shows in his lightly bronzed skin and amber eyes, his black hair glowing blue and swept back from an undercut. “You’re late,” Hisashi tells me, looking unsurprised. My only response is to shrug one of my shoulders. He never even gave me a chance to agree to this meeting over the phone — he’s lucky Rumi convinced me to even show up, in the end. “Well I’m glad I waited to order the food, then; It should be here soon. I got you a favorite.” 

I snort. Of course he knew exactly how I would react to his “invitation”. Which means he did it on purpose. My eyes narrow of their own accord. 

“Hiro.” he says in a warning voice, and after a moment I finally uncross my arms with a sigh and lean back.

“Right. Sorry. Business capacity.” Though why he gets to keep being an ass while I have to be good is very unfair, in my opinion.

He only laughs, a short but powerful burst which makes me squirm. “We haven't seen each other in person in nearly a year, I understand. Just as long as you’re trying to make this relationship work.” His words only make my fidgeting more fitful as guilt pinks the tips of my ears. That’s why he gets more leeway in our interactions: my track record of working on relationships is spotty at best — he knows this personally. His eyes follow my movements and understanding softens them. “Chihiro, don’t overthink things.” I nod mutely. His ability to read me has always amazed me, his moments of compassion at stark odds against his usual imperious attitude, somehow making them that much more tender. “Besides, it’s personal relationships you struggle with. Business relationships should come much more naturally — distant and detached, like you!” he smirks, the softness in his eyes replaced with mirth. Aaand there’s the asshole again.

We move from Hisashi’s desk to a comfy seating area near giant windows that make up one entire wall and overlook an expanse of small mountains fading into the distance. As much as I hate having to come to his office, I sure love this view. Shortly after he brings out the contract, a secretary brings our food in and we dig in as he explains each aspect of the settlement to me. Munching on my Zaru Soba (cold noodle dish really is one of my favorites, in its simplicity), I am struck by Hisahi’s efforts. As we get deeper into the contract, it becomes more and more evident that he has worked hard to allow me as much input into the creative process as possible, as well as to ensure that the movie does not deviate horrendously from my books or take too much creative license. He didn't have to do that, and I know that it was these aspects of the contract which made the negotiations drag on for so long. It would have been so much easier to simply sign over full creative rights to some huge conglomerate company and receive a higher profit in return, but he didn’t. He knew that the money wasn't what was important to me, even if, as my agent, it should have been to him. He found a small, dedicated company that respected my rights as the author and created an agreement which kept me highly involved in the entire process of animating my books. Even more, I realize, I trusted him to do this implicitly. I didn't ask him how negotiations were or double check, send him demands or requests that I wanted addressed in contract, and while part of my silence stemmed from the fact that I simply had been avoiding my ex, it was mostly because I knew I didn't have to. I trusted him with my life’s work, my past and future, no questions asked, and he met my trust fully and equally, without disappointment. No, he actually exceeded my expectancies — even after all I put him through. 

I put my chopsticks down and reach over to grip his hand which is hovering over the contract as he points at the specific term he has been explaining, He pauses mid word and raises a brow at me. “Yes?”

“Thank you. You went above and beyond while I sulked for a year. This is amazing.” _You’re amazing._ He smiles gently, and covers my hands with his other, squeezing them once before letting go, and I hurriedly pull mine back, suddenly feeling guilty for some reason. “And also, you need to start over about halfway up the page — I zoned out the last five minutes or so,” I hurriedly say, pushing the feeling away.

“Chihiro, I will bludgeon you to death,” he shakes his head in exasperation.

“I’ll strangle you first.” I singsong. 

He barks a laugh before moving back to the very top of the page with a pointed look which I return innocently, promising silently to pay attention this time. And I do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY so y'all don't even know what kind of silly research i put into this chapter, for the most inconsequential of things, namely Ko’s birthday hahaha. I haven't outright said who Ko is, but I think you all know where I’m heading, right? Knowing this, though, I really try to make every aspect of my characters have meaning. So for Ko, he is born November 21, 1988. 1988 is the year of the dragon (nuff said there), November makes him a Scorpio, a water sign (also nuff said), marked as the “most powerful” of the signs, an old soul full of wisdom who has extraordinary emotional depths, resilience, and leadership skills. Scorpios are also marked by mystery. Sounds like you-know-who to me! November 21 puts Ko right on the cusp of Sagittarius, though, which was important to me because this sign is ruled by Jupiter. In Chinese cosmology, Jupiter is the sign of Wood, which is associated with the color green (think his eyeballs), eyes (speaking of) and birth, and whose heavenly creature is an azure drAGON (MORE than nuff said!). Wood is an element of spring, which had me initially placing Haku as an Aeries, in spring time, and despite the fact that Aeries are also very powerful signs marked by leadership etc, it did not fit in my eyes due to other aspects this sign embodies (they’re generally loud and rambunctious (which isn't bad — just not Ko)). As a planet, Jupiter is the “king of the gods”, tolerant, expansive, one which seeks knowledge and which is marked by morality, honor, law, having a broader purpose and reach.Totally sounds like you-know-who/Ko. Ya’ll, even the numbers 21 have meaning hahaha The number 2 is the number of the moon and reflects a quiet power of judgment, kindness, balance and tact, and it also deals with partnerships and communication, urging to unite with like minded/idealed people (*cough*cough*chihiro). The number 1 is the number of the sun and deals with strong will, new beginnings (*cough*cough* this entire fic.), purity, and physical and mental action. Even the name Ko has a meaning, despite just being a part of his original name! In Kanji, the word Ko can mean wood (throwback to the Chinese cosmology ayy), orphan, alone, emptiness, big brother, and child — all words which are relevant to Ko’s character both before and during this fic.
> 
> SO — there you have it! I am ridiculous. But I hope you appreciate the absurd amount of thought I put into my writing xD  
> Thank you again for reading.  
> You the real mvp.  
> Lemme know what you all think!  
> x  
> p.s. Hisashi means “always with you” :’) I hate love triangles, so I don't plan on making this fiction a twilight two point oh, no worries, but I love Hisashi’s character and what I have planned for him — good or bad, who knows! — and I hope you will, too!  
> p.p.s. Hiro can mean abundant, generous, tolerant, and prosperous. You go, Chihiro.  
> p.p.p.s. I also adjusted part of this chapter from what I have posted on fanfic.net — there, I have Chihiro eating a meat dish with Hisashi, but I afterwards decided that, after the events of Spirited Away, even if un-remembered, Chihiro would most definitely be a vegetarian, so adjusted her meal accordingly lol


	5. Adrift

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Friends!  
> Looong note to begin but info about potential TRIGGERS and general background info which you might find helpful to read through! Otherwise just skip this vomit of words ha
> 
> Welcome new subscribers/bookmarkers/random readers/what have you! Thank you for choosing this fic and I truly hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Thank you also for any well wishes sent my brother's way — he is doing much better, I am so relieved to be able to say!
> 
> Reminder: I now have a tumblr for this fic, kalipeda. tumblr. com, and I also track the tag “fic: the spirit never forgets” and “fic: tsnf” as well as “kalipeda” 
> 
> One of my most recent posts reads “Just wrote an emotional moment between Chihiro and Hisashi *cries-lots*I am so proud of where these two characters are going. Their relationship will seem ambiguous to you, but I promise I’m not pulling any love triangle crap. I just want these two to be there for each other in the best of ways.” — the next few chapters will 99% revolve around these two, with many ups and downs. I really hope you like their interactions — I love Hisashi as a character, he has really evolved on his own, and I love putting him and Chihiro in uncomfortable (though ultimately harmless or, conversely, necessary) situations. I love a good flirt heh heh heh. 
> 
> Possible TRIGGERS: I briefly explore issues of mental health. I have taken many classes on psychological disorders, have family members and dear friends who suffer from them, so do not take them lightly. I hope that you can sense that I tried to treat the subject as respectfully and delicately as possible — I did my best to make it abundantly clear that mental illness is not a stigma, not to be taken lightly or something that can be magically diagnosed and treated; it is serious and deserves our attention, and those who suffer from mental health issues deserve all our love and support. I hope i handled the subject respectfully and accurately, but if anyone objects with my treatment, please let me know so that I can make changes to this chapter — I always want to be considerate of you, my readers. 
> 
> Also, heads up, this chapter might be a bit risqué, to some, though in no way overtly graphic/explicit.
> 
> This chapter is much LONGER than previous ones, as I am trying to catch it up to my postings on fanfic. That’s probably a good thing though, I would imagine haha
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter, and please let me know what you think! I love and rely on your feedback and support to stay motivated!  
> Thank you all again so much for everything.  
> xoxo  
> x

If there is one word that could be used to accurately describe Kin Hisashi, it’s control. Carrying himself with an iron will, Hisashi is always completely aware and in command of everything he does and says; what people around him are doing, supposed to be doing, and failing to do; nothing escapes his notice, nothing is impossible for him to attain — if he says he will accomplish something, he will not rest until it is done. Over the years I have known him, I have admired, envied — and pitied him for this quality of control. While it makes him formidable in his profession, the best ally one could ask for, and a loyal friend, I have always had the sense that he suffers for it. While he loves to tease and has an easy laugh, I have never seen him truly relax, never seen his shoulders slump with ease, his eyes mellow with the simplicity of contentment. When we were together, he came close — I could sense an internal shifting within him — but then something would snap in his gaze and I could see the gears in his mind begin their spinning again as he returned to thinking, planning, observing. While part of me assumed his strict control went hand in hand with his domineering ways, another part of me questioned the insistence, the near compulsion of it…that other part of me wondered if he was domineering because he could not help being so precise, if he maintained his constant level of self-containment because he was actually afraid of letting that control go. And if so, why?

While deep down, in places I had secreted away, I worried for Hisashi, the rest of me thanked him for his tireless ways. I had just finished the first draft of my first book and was desperately looking to be published when I spoke to him for the first time. Picking up my phone, I was struck by how deep his voice was. “Ogino-san, hello, my name is Kin Hisashi and I work at Hon Incorporated. A friend of mine at a partnering publishing house just forwarded your manuscript to me and I would like to offer you a deal.” I had been vaguely aware of the company’s size and worth at the time and extremely hesitant to accept the offer — just as with the current film-contract, I worried that publishing with such a huge company would require me to change my book in some way/at a fundamental level, and I didn't want something special turned into a quick-sell, commercial gambit. It took multiple phone calls until I finally met with Hisashi in person, and then several more meetings until I was convinced that he was genuine in his assurances that my book was perfect the way it was; that he didn't want to change a thing. After I signed, he worked long hours to convince the company board that my book would be a success, pulled out all the stops the marketing team had to offer, blew the budget to make the world take notice — he kept his promise.

Through our first few weeks working together, though, what Hisashi failed to mention to me was that he did not just work at Hon Incorporated — he owned it. And it was worth billions.  
After a meeting with the board, I heard one of its members refer to Hisashi by his title, and it was only then that I realized his true role in the company. When I addressed the truth, it was with feelings of disbelief and confusion — why would he not tell me? Moreover, why would he go out of his way to make sure I was ignorant to the fact? The board member who had used Hisashi’s title had immediately covered her mouth and looked at me guiltily, reinforcing my suspicion that Hisahi’s position was being kept a secret from me. 

“Hiro,” he had turned to me unapologetically, stirring anger in my gut, “you were already so damn scared of the idea of signing with Hon Inc, if you knew I was the CEO you would never have met with me, never have signed.”

“So then why not have one of your little underlings sign as my agent, hm? You’re the CEO — you don't have to actually work with your authors!”

“I didn't trust anyone else to do the job properly.”

His answer struck me dumb.

“I believe in your work, Hiro, but more than that, I believe in your message and I knew that I was the only one who could help you and your writing reach its true potential. And I stand by that. It’s only been a few weeks since you signed on officially, and you’re still skittish about everything; something tells me that deep down you still worry whether you made the right choice in choosing Hon Inc to represent you. So I decided to wait a little longer to tell you about me owning the company, to wait until you were sure of yourself. Ultimately, though, who gives a shit?” he arches a brow at me. “So there are three more letters after my name on my official business card, big deal. It doesn't change the fact that I have worked my ass off making sure that you get what you deserve for this book. The people who work here might call me ‘sir’ and cow-tow to me in the halls, but for them the bottom line is not great literature — it’s their monthly dividends — and if I do anything that might challenge their yearly bonuses, they fight me tooth and nail. If any other agent at this company had signed your book, it would never have made print. The board does not accept risk, no matter the potential reward. I was the only one who had the capability of getting this book to publishing stage, and sure my position as CEO didn't hurt, but ultimately it was because I was willing to work harder than any other agent here. I didn't tell you I was CEO because I didn't want to scare you away before making good on my promise, that your book would print exactly as it is and be a success — the first of which has already happened, the second of which is soon to come. So tell me honestly, are you really that pissed about it?”

Instead of answering I had huffed and brushed past him as to march to the elevators in silent defeat. His rumble of laughter had followed close behind.

Fast forward three years, and here we were on a first class flight to Tokyo. Even though there wouldn't be time to sight-see, I had spent the flight so far eagerly reading through a book detailing all of the major tourist attractions. 

“Oh, the Meiji Shrine looks so awesome! Look at how huge its gate is! And the Sensō-ji Temple! Oh, they even have a zoo! And not to mention the Imperial Palace. And shopping — ahh, I heard the Ginza district is to die for.” I nearly croon, flipping through the pages. Next to me, Hisashi sits stiffly as he fair near glares out the window. “Is…is everything okay?” I ask him hesitantly, worried I’ve annoyed him with my touristy gushing. “I’ll put the book away.”

He reaches out and stops me from placing the book in my carry on bag without glancing away from the window. “You’re fine. I just don't like big cities.” 

My brow furrows slightly, “We live in a pretty big city, though.”

“Tokyo is…different. There are more people, tourists. The people in our city are there to live. So many people in Tokyo are only there to eat, drink, party, have sex.”

“Well, those _are_ all things necessary to living.” I try to ignore the blush the end of his statement caused, “I mean, maybe not partying, but still.”

He finally turns to me with an exasperated sigh. His mouth is stuck in a permanent straight line, and I have to smother the urge to reach out and poke the sides up into a smile. “It’s different. At home, there is leisure to these things. In cities like Tokyo, it’s constant.” His eyes grow stormy and his frown deepens. “The air is weighed down with it, the constant want, need and take. I hate it. It makes me feel dirty. It makes me feel empty.”

I am honestly speechless. I have no idea how to respond to his admission, whether I should try and comfort him or not, let alone where this sudden sentiment of his has come from. The one thing I do know is that pity will only make him angry. “Why are you coming, then?” I ask instead. “Why not stay behind?”

“Because you’re my friend, Hiro, and I promised I would see this through with you. I wouldn't make you go alone.” His words themselves are kind, but the whole time he speaks, his tone and the way he looks at me implies I’m an idiot for having to ask.

“Jeez, okay, you want a medal?” I pretend to be offended, but secretly I’m glad I’ve distracted him enough that the dark look in his eyes has faded.

“Yes, actually, that would be great.”

I turn sideways in my seat, bringing my leg up beneath me. Grasping his hand tightly in mine, I clasp it to my chest. “Thank you so, so much, kind and gentle Hisashi. You do me a great service in accompanying me to this city of vice. Your magnanimity and tolerance shine brightly through the smog of mindless consumerism.”

“Tolerance, eh?”

I shrug, hands still held, “You’re putting up with me, right?”

He hums shortly in agreement, “That’s true. Now add shockingly handsome and incredibly wise and it'll be even more accurate.”

“Ha. Ha.” I let him go and turn back to my book.

“Ooh, and funny. I’m that, too.”

“Not.”

He huffs in mock disappointment and we sit in comfortable silence for the rest of the trip, though a few times I hear him murmuring to himself, a small smile ghosting at his lips, “Kind and gentle Hisashi.” I hide my own smiles in my book. 

.  
…  
xxxx  
…  
.

Once we land I immediately send off texts to Rumi and Ko, and am pleased when they respond promptly.

_=Woohoo! Meet someone famous! Tell them about me!_

_=I’m glad the flight went well. Good luck finding your luggage!_

I don’t even have to look at the names to know who sent which one. 

“What’s with the dopey grin?” Hisashi frowns. As soon as we began circling the airport to land, that unsettling gloominess settled on him again, only growing in strength as we landed and taxied. Standing in our terminal, he is incredibly restless and irritated.

“My friends. Just glad we made it in one piece.”

“Unfortunately.”

“Right. Um, let’s get the bags. Do you know where baggage claim is?”

“Just follow the other lemmings.” And with that he marches off without me.

_=Hisashi is acting really weird…I’m actually kinda worried!!!_ I shoot a quick text to Rumi.

_=Tell that jerk to take a chill pill suppositorally  
=Shove it up there good_

_=EW STOP. Also, not helping.  
=Seriously, this is not just jerky Hisashi! This is like almost nuclear Hisashi!_

_=Wait, for real? Um, I don't know! Your literally islands away!! Get him to the hotel and calm him down?!_

_=Say a prayer that he doesn't kill someone first._ I manage to send before rushing forward and grabbing Hisashi by the shoulder.

“OH- _kay_! Hello, sir, is everything alright?” I turn to the man he nearly just punched out.

“He was trying to steal our luggage.” Hisashi grinds out in a near growl.

“I apologized and told him already: I have the same bag and thought this one was mine. He keeps going on about me being a thief, though!” the guy gesticulates widely, sweat dotting his brow.

“It has a name tag on it — are you blind? It’s our bag, not yours!” Hisashi spits.

“FIRST of all!” I interrupt, strengthening my grip on his shoulder with one hand, pulling the bag out of his own hands with the other, “It’s technically _my_ bag. And seeing as how it is now in _my_ possession, I really don't mind the mixup. I’m sure it was an honest mistake like the gentleman says.” The gentleman in answer nods his head vigorously. 

“Chihiro, I don’t believe him.”

“And I don’t really care! No harm no foul, okay? You’re obviously stressed out, so will you drop it so that we can get to the hotel? I want a shower and something to eat.” When he doesn't respond I turn back to the man. “I’m so sorry, sir. My companion here isn't feeling very well. I hope he did not upset you too much.”

“Well as a matter of fact —“ he begins, but quickly snaps his mouth shut as Hisashi lets out another growl next to me. “No, we’re good — you have a nice night, now!” he stumbles away.

I turn to Hisashi with a growl of my own and none to gently smack the shoulder I’ve just let go of. “What the hell was that?!”

For his part, Hisashi suddenly looks exhausted now that the man has scuttled away. He scrubs his hands across his face with a heavy sigh before turning back to the belt of moving luggage. “Nothing. It was literally nothing.”

Not wanting to provoke him again, but knowing that punching a stranger over a simple mix up is not just “nothing”, let alone “literally”, I keep silent, but carefully monitor Hisashi, keeping a hand on his elbow the entire time we wait for his suitcase to appear and as we make our way outside to the line of taxis. 

“I know I’m older than you, but I don’t quite require assistance walking, Hiro.” he says with a bit of his old liveliness as we head towards the man holding up the “Hon Incorporated” sign. The driver bows and takes our luggage, storing it in the back for us, and Hisashi’s eyes tighten.

“Who said the assistance was for you?” I quip to get his attention. “I don't care if it was first class, that plane seat hurt my sciatica.”

“Do you need anything? Water, painkillers? We can stop and get some medicine. Tea, maybe. A Wheelchair?” 

I think he’s kidding at first, but quickly realize he’s serious. “No, no, no, it’s okay! I’m sure once we get to the hotel I can stretch it out a little. I’ll be fine.”

“But I can get you something to make it better. Let me get you something.”

“Hisashi, it’s fine. I don't need anything.”

“But I can get you something, Chihiro.”

“I said I’m okay! I don't want anything, Hisashi, but thank you anyway.”

With my refusal, he seems to collapse in on himself. “Okay. Okay. Right. Um, let’s, let’s go, I guess.”

As he gets into the cab first, I pull my phone out again. 

_=Ko, I need your advice. Can I call you when I get to the hotel??_

I get a response immediately. _=Of course, Chihiro. I’ll be waiting— I really hope everything is okay._

I climb in next to Hisashi and eye him wearily. His normally regal posture is gone, he sits curled in on himself, his knee bouncing as he glares out the window. _So do I,_ I think. _So do I._

.  
…  
xxx  
…  
.

After yelling at a bellhop and nearly shattering the elevator buttons with the force of his jabs, Hisashi and I make it to our room. Yes, our room — due to an oversight in booking, we’ve been forced to share, though thankfully there are two beds. Hisashi slams his way into the bathroom, mumbling something about taking a shower, and I close myself off on the porch. Dialing Ko’s number, I have all of 2 seconds to admire the view of glittering lights, of streets and buildings stretching out in front of me, before the line is picked up.

“Chihiro, what’s wrong?” Ko’s voice is low with worry.

“I’m okay,” I wave away his comment even though he can’t see the gesture. “It’s Hisashi I’m worried about. You know, my agent I told you about.”

“Is he sick?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.” I slide to the ground, my back against the railing, ignoring the 20 story drop behind me.

Ko must hear the confusion and concern in my voice, “Don’t worry, Chihiro, everything will be alright.” he tells me soothingly, “Start from the beginning, tell me what’s happened.”

So I do. I explain Hisashi’s weird behavior, behavior I have never witnessed from him in the years I have known him; his aggression and sullenness, the strange desperation; how his mood seemed to worsen the closer into Tokyo we got, catalyzing at the airport. 

After a few moments of silence where I can tell Ko is mulling things over, he says “You’re the psychiatrist, Chihiro, but even to me that sounds like bipolar disorder.”

I sigh and wearily scrub my face with my free hand, pushing hair out of my eyes. “It does resemble a manic episode, at first, but generally there’s a mood elevation during episodes. Even if it was a mixed state, he would have moments of elation, and other than his sudden irritability and paranoia with regards to our bags, he doesn't have any other symptoms. None that I can recognize this early, at least — I would have to observe him over a prolonged period of time in order to establish a diagnosis with any kind of reasonable certainty.”

“And?” He asks the question not in a confronting way, but rather to encourage me to continue. 

“And…we’ll be here for a week. The hotel screwed up so I will basically be with him 24/7, working and sharing a room.” I hear a choking noise from Ko’s end at that but ignore it. “I guess I can keep an eye on him and try and ascertain if it’s clinical or, I don't know, something else.” I groan with frustration, “I’ve never had to treat someone I know personally, if you can even call this treating! What should I do? Should I broach the subject with him? Pretend everything is normal?”

“Well, you’re hesitant enough that it sounds like, at this point, you don't even believe it’s a true psychological disorder, correct?”

“I don’t.” I admit after a pause. With the admission I realize something else, feeling guilty as I do. “It’s just easier to assume that because it’s my field of expertise. I would know where to at least begin trying to address it, how to try and help him. I realize that’s selfish of me — mental illness isn't something to be used as an excuse or convenience, and it’s anything but. If it’s something else, though, something I don't know…what will I do? I can’t stand seeing him like this. We’ve had our ups and downs, but he’s still my friend, and he’s obviously hurting.”

“I know, Chihiro. And it’s because you’re his friend that you need to trust yourself. You are scared and unsure, alone in a city you don't know, about to face the deal of a lifetime. All of that extra stress isn't making it easier, either. But you have Hisashi’s best interest at heart, and between you and me, you know him best. Don't question yourself, or your friendship — you know the best way to approach this, to help him, you just need to have the confidence to realize it.”

I lean my head back and sigh, wishing I could see the stars blacked out from light pollution. “I think -“

Ko clears his throat pointedly and I roll my eyes.

“I _know_ that Hisashi doesn't have bipolar disorder, though there’s still something psychological going on, obviously. But — I don't have to be a psychiatrist to help him. I just have to be his friend.”

“So?” Another leading question.

“Soo, I’m going to get off the phone with you, stop being a worried, nervous wreck, stop acting like this is about me, and talk to and focus on my friend.”

“Good.” I can hear the smile in his voice.

“Can I call you again in the morning to let you know how things go?”

“Of course, Chihiro. I’m always here for you.”

I close my eyes with a smile, feeling bolstered by our conversation and the confidence he has in me. “Thank you, Ko. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Chihiro.”

.  
…  
xxxx  
…  
.

I’ve started to doze off, despite my best attempts at staying awake, by the time Hisashi emerges from the bathroom. The lewd joke I was about to make about what took him so long dies on my tongue as he settles near my feet looking terribly exhausted. And naked. He looks at me with a smirk hidden in the corner of his lips and it takes all of my self control to maintain eye contact and not look away blushing — the jerk is doing it on purpose. True, it’s not something I haven’t seen before (and it’s not like I haven’t seen even more), but we are no longer together and the proximity of his naked, sculpted, really yummy body is making me uncomfortable. Damn it, I thought of him as yummy, ugh. I must make a face at that thought, because his smirk comes out full force.

“Something wrong, Hiro?”

“Yeah,” I glare, “all that macho bullshit you pulled at the airport. That’s what’s wrong.” Subtle, Chihiro, way to go.

His smirk disappears instantly and the exhaustion takes complete hold of his features, his teasing unable to distract him any longer thanks to my outburst. “I know. That was…unacceptable.” He combs his hand through his hair and my eye twitches with the effort of not oggling the bulge and flex of his bicep. Keep it together, girl. Focus. 

“That’s one word for it.” My voice comes out much harsher than I intend, the fact that I am actively having to work at not drooling pissing me off. His eyes widen in shock and genuine hurt, darting away as his hand falls into his lap, his jaw working as he tries to come up with a response. I could punch myself for being such an ass. Who’s the even-keeled, thoughtful psychiatrist, again? Certainly not me. Mentally lambasting myself for letting my hormones get in the way of something so important and acting like a self-centered tool — again — I quickly lean forward and lay my hand on his. “I’m sorry, that was unfair of me. You’ve never been one to act when unprovoked, so I know something is going on. I’m not trying to make you feel worse, I just want to try and help, if I can.”

He looks up at me through the strands of hair which, when un-styled, hang into his eyes. “I don’t know if you can.” he whispers, and my heart breaks a little.

I sit up on my knees, moving closer to him, and for once he has to look up at me. Taking hold of his face in my hands, I wait until he lifts his gaze to mine and hold it. “Well _I do_ know, and I _will_. I will do whatever it takes. But you have to tell me what’s going on first, Hisashi. I am your friend, you can trust me. Do you trust me?”

His eyes darken and become very solemn. “I always have. Even with everything we’ve been through, I never stopped trusting you. Do _you_ trust _me_?”

“At one point I wished I didn’t.” I answer honestly, referring to the many past months I spent ignoring him after our breakup, “but I never stopped trusting you, either.” 

He lets out a shuddering breath and then suddenly I am tipping backwards with a gasp and he lies on top of me, his head pressed against my chest right over my heart which is beating wildly. “What — what the hell are you doing?” I choke out, mind jumping to conclusions, “I trust you and love you, but only as a friend! I’m not having sex with you!” I repeat it to myself again, forcing my intimacy-starved body into compliance, trying to ignore the way his weight and warmth sinks into me so pleasantly and familiarly, his damp hair tickling my nose and smelling like his shampoo, earthy and warm.

“Please, Chihiro.” He mumbles, and I freeze as he moves to bury his head against my neck, his stubbled jaw grazing deliciously against the skin there. “I promise I’m not trying to have sex with you. I just need…I need this.”

“To lie naked on an unwilling victim?!”

“To be held.” he sniffles, and suddenly I realize that I can feel moisture gathering against my skin. I immediately stop struggling to wiggle out from underneath him. I have never, _ever_ seen Hisashi cry — never even come close. I didn't think it was possible for him to lose that iron grip on his composure and self control to even get near to that point of loss of emotional control. 

“Shit” I whisper to myself, shocked. Hesitantly, I wrap my arms around him, and as I my fingers wind through his hair, he begins to sob. _What the hell is wrong with my friend?_ Tears silently stream down my own cheeks as I clutch him closer, nakedness ignored, as I ache for this man who has loved me so fiercely, still does even if differently than in the past. “Please, Hisashi.” I whisper into his temple, “Let me in. What is doing this to you?” but he can’t answer through his outpouring of emotion. It’s as if a damn has broken, and all the pain and sorrow he has held at bay his entire life is suddenly surging forward. I continue to hold his shuddering body, whispering comforting nonsense words and rubbing soft circles into his back as he clutches me like I am a life-raft carrying him through the flood.

What feels like hours later, and probably is, he has wept himself into a true state of exhaustion, lying still against me. I myself feel completely depleted, sympathy and confusion and the driving need to take away my friend’s pain having burned me out totally. I breathe heavily through my nose and ask in a terribly soft voice, “Will you tell me what’s going on?”

His voice sounds awful from crying, thick and gravelly, “Tomorrow. Chihiro, please, tomorrow. Right now, I-I can’t —“

“Sh-sh-sh,” I quickly reassure him as his voice starts to wobble again, stroking my hand down his spine. “It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me now if you can’t. But tomorrow…tomorrow you _will_ tell me. Promise me you will.”

“I promise.” he breathes, and I nod. “Chihiro can we — can I stay like this, a little longer?” he asks me hesitantly, squeezing me once lightly.

“Are you going to get dressed?” I prod, though it seems like a moot point by now, really, and Hisashi must agree because his only response is to mumble unintelligibly into my neck. I grumble and roll my eyes but I’m too weary, mentally and physically, to argue. And after holding the strongest person I know as he almost literally fell apart in my arms, any type of even remotely sexual urge has been swiftly banished. Thank God.

With what little energy I have left, I reach out with my arm, stretching weakly as Hisashi’s weight keeps me from shifting, and just manage to reach the lamp with my fingertips. After a few attempts, I manage to twist the switch and let my arm fall limply with a moan.

“I could've gotten that.” Hisashi smiles tiredly into my neck and I slap the back of his head halfheartedly.

“You dick.”

He chuckles once, the sound bringing me a profound feeling of relief after so many tears, before his breaths even out and I know he has finally given in to sleep. I follow his example and within seconds am out cold. 

.  
…  
xxxx  
…  
.

Feeling deliciously warm and pliant, I try to ignore the sunshine streaming across my eyelids and burrow my face into the wonderful source of that warmth with a hum. Only when somebody hums back does everything come rushing back to me and I realize that that source of warmth is in fact Hisashi — I am molded to his side, my leg thrown over his hip, the fingers of one hand splayed across his abdomen, my face pressed into his chest as one of his arms cradles me to him and the hand of the other other rests high on my thigh. Part of me feels sad as I remember waking up like this every day when we were together, can’t help but miss the companionship and intimacy of it, but the rest of me realizes that I am not wearing pants or a shirt, and last I remember Hisashi was buck-naked. Eyes snapping open, I shoot up in bed. Looking down, I am relieved to find that I am still wearing my cami , and I applaud myself for having chosen to wear comfortable boy short style undies instead of my usual lacy undergarments. 

“You kicked the rest off some time during the night.” At his words, my gaze shifts from my still — if scantily — clad body to Hisashi’s still very much naked one. The towel has managed to stay wrapped around his hips, though its ridden up in every possible direction, leaving nothing to the imagination. He brings his hands up behind his head and grins at me as I vaguely remember becoming way too warm engulfed in his body heat and, drunk with sleep, managing to toss off my extra layers from my secure position as a little spoon, his limbs draped across me and caging me in making it somewhat of a struggle. It was quite the feat, actually.

I have no answer except to glare. “Stop that.”

His smile only widens, “Stop what, Hiro?”

“Putting yourself on display like that.” I wave at his pose.

“Display? Does that mean you’re looking?” his grin widens as his chest puffs out.

With a noise between a growl and a shriek, amused despite myself, I pick up a pillow and pretend to smother him with it, “So now you’re suddenly all cheer and jokes, huh?” I pant.

Laughing lightly, Hisashi easily sits up, bringing me close as he pins my arms behind me, the pillow falling between us a measly barrier but now the only thing keeping him decent as his movement has finally and fully dislodged the towel from his waist. “I am,” he smiles sweetly, leaning closer to my face. “Thanks to you.”

“What, um, what are you doing?” I stutter out as he comes closer and closer.

His nose touches mine now, “Wishing you good morning,” as his smile turns from sweet to mischievous, and before I can stop him his lips are settling against me…sealed around my nose as he breathes out and forces me to take in and smell his morning breath.

“You son of a bitch!” I gag, ripping free of his grip and he jumps from the bed laughing maniacally, sprinting for the bathroom, the pillow I fling after him thumping harmlessly against the door as it closes behind his back. “I hate you!” I call after him, scrubbing at the offended orifice. “Gross, gross, gross, gross, GROSS!”

“Love you, too!” he singsongs back. 

I throw another pillow at the closed door for good measure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey-yo!  
> So! What do you think of Hisashi?? You like? I like. fun fact: his full name, which I mentioned once, is Kin Hisashi — Kin means gold!……. *hint*hint*  
> Even though they are not romantically enmeshed with each other, i love putting Chihiro and Hisashi in shmexy situations — they have a wonderful chemistry and a lovely relationship that is so very different from Chihiro and Ko’s (that difference will become more clear as this fic progresses) *sigh* I am a terrible person, I am so sorry. Fear not, though, Chihiro is all about Ko, even if her body wants to jump the closest body ahaha No, I jest, I jest — but in all seriousness, as I said before, I hate love triangles, so while I love making things physically ambiguous, emotionally we know where everyone stands (well…maybe not Hisashi. But don't worry), and I love friendships that are so solid that physical intimacy does not have to be sexualized (we’ll get there eventually, but for now i love to tease xD)
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter as much I enjoyed writing it (I was definitely giggling towards the end, though the beginning had me clutching my chest. Oof, the feels. More of those to come, as well.)  
> Thank you for reading and please comment! I <3 feedback! Thank youuu!  
> x


	6. Muscle Memory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Friends!  
> New chapter! Yay! Thank you all so much for all of the feedback last chapter! It really keeps me motivated to keep going, knowing that someone actually reads what I write. I also love the constructive feedback! I’ve been given some great ideas and insightful notes which are just too sweet!  
> Also good news: brother is out of the i.c.u.! Woo! Thanks for all your positive thoughts and prayers!!  
> NOW. Here we get a little bit more background on Chihiro and Hisashi’s relationship. We also get more risqué/sexual behavior and what might be, for some, rather uncomfortable/dubious consent… nothing too explicit or what I would consider truly violating. More info in the end notes. It’s hard to explain without giving it all away, but hopefully it makes sense while/after you read. But still, **possible** Trigger warning there. Also another mention of mental health towards the end. I just want to reiterate that I try to treat issues of mental health as respectfully as possible, and if you ever feel that I fail at this, please let me know!  
> Also, more background on Hisashi! I completely make his story up, as there’s no real basis/background in the film, but hopefully it fits well to his character :)  
> Either way, please let me know!  
> I know you probably are sick of Hisashi and Chihiro and eager to have Ko back, so no worries — next chapter will bring our main man back, but Hisashi will continue to be integral to this fic!
> 
> reminder: I have a tumblr for this fic, kalipeda, where i post studio ghibli/spirited away stuff, info on my chapters, and where I will also begin posting previews of said chapters! gimme a follow! :P
> 
> Thank you again and enjoy!!!!  
> x

While Hisashi showers and, hopefully, brushes his teeth, I take the liberty of ordering from room service. By the time he emerges, trailing steam in his wake, an elaborate breakfast spreads across his unused bed. I am now wearing one of the short, white plush robes that came with the room, munching on a pancake as I lean against the headboard of my bed, blankets kicked to one side. Distantly I send up a prayer of thanks that Hisashi is clad in jeans and a gray, loose knit sweater this time around.

“Are we having company I’m unaware of?” he raises his brows, taking in all the food. I might have been a little overzealous in my ordering.

“I’ve never had room service before,” I shrug back, taking another bite of pancake with a sigh of pleasure. “Make yourself useful and bring me one of those fruit tortes,” I point. 

“Anything else?” he shakes his head with a smile.

“Some of that tamagoyaki.” He gathers the torte and the rolled omelet and brings them to me as I make gimme motions with my hands, chortling in satisfaction. “I could get used to this.”

“Could you?” he tilts his head at me, sitting and pulling my legs into his lap. 

I swallow thickly and consider. “For special occasions. Otherwise imagine how spoiled I would get.” I joke.

“I don’t know,” he murmurs, absently trailing a finger along my shin, “luxury suits you well, I think.”

“Does it, now?” I can’t help but snort.

“It does. I’ve always thought so.” he looks at me pointedly. 

I purse my lips and pull my legs back, crossing them and sitting up. “Yes, I suppose you have.” 

I think back on when we were a couple. He would constantly shower me with expensive gifts of clothing and jewelry, shoes and art work, and never accept my attempts to return them. It was overwhelming. I felt uncomfortable accepting such lavish things that I had no real need of, even if they cost the equivalent of pocket change to him. When he began hinting at us moving in together — more specifically, me moving in with him — it was with the underlying message that it would be better for me, that I needed to be taken care of properly. 

It was sweet; I knew he meant well, only wanted what he thought was best for me, but it was too much. I felt pressured by all he was offering and, if I was being honest, what I felt I was undeserving of — because I knew his willingness and desire to give me all these things hinted at the depth of his emotions, which scared me even more. I loved him very much, cared for him dearly — but he nearly worshipped me. And there was nothing sarcastic or narcissistic in saying as much; when we were together, he devoted all of his efforts and attentions to me, worked to anticipate my every need, fulfilled needs I didn't even have, tried to pamper me constantly, to give anything and everything to me. That kind of love, that level of intensity and dependence, intimidated me. I didn’t feel worthy, didn't feel capable of reciprocating with the same fervor he showed me. And I knew that deep down, as alluring and easy as that kind of relationship seemed, being coddled, being a “kept woman”…it was not what I wanted. So I pushed him away, ended our relationship without any warning or attempt at explaining things or working them out. I ran away. Broke his heart completely and devastatingly. And Hisashi’s response was only to promise me that he would wait, take whatever part in my life I was willing to let him. My guilt and shame, and the lingering fear that I would regret my decision (despite everything, I missed him so much in the beginning that it literally hurt) led me to shut him out completely, except for the occasional work message.

Though I knew breaking up had ultimately been the right choice for me, I also knew that the way I had went about it was miserably selfish and cowardly. I had treated someone important, who would give his life for me, with zero consideration; taken his feelings both for me and in general for granted and spit on them. It’s time to change that. 

Resolutely setting my breakfast aside, I crawl onto his lap, wrapping my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck. His brows shoot up and his eyes widen in alarm, but there is nothing even remotely sexual about this, which he seems to realize as his arms remain limp by his sides — instead, I’m making sure he can’t escape.

“Hisashi,” I say his name softly, contrasting against the pressure I squeeze the nape of his neck with, to emphasize my next words, “You promised you would tell me what was going on tomorrow. It’s tomorrow, now.” Immediately he stands up but — my plan has worked, and I cling to him determinedly, like some oversized chimp. Or sloth. “You promised.” I repeat, craning my neck to better see his face as I slide down his torso a fraction. He remains silent. “I’m not letting go until you do!” I try, but the severity of my threat is rather undermined as I slide down some more. _I need to do more strength training_ I vaguely think, scrabbling with my feet and arms to regain the lost ground.

I can tell Hisashi is both parts amused and anxious, my antics as well as his looming promise to share affecting him equally. “What if I just agree to let you hang on me all day and we pretend last night never happened?”

I frown. “I get nothing out of that deal, why would I agree to that?”

“You get to ride me all day, I’d say that’s something.” 

“Yeah, okay Mr. Innuendo, thanks but no thanks.”

“Innuendo? I never said anything dirty — that’s all you, get your mind out of the gutter Hiro.”

“Whatever, I was just trying to get you to talk.” I huff, suddenly feeling stupid, and make to disentangle my limbs and let myself down when suddenly his arms are wrapping around me, his palms planted firmly on my bottom keeping me still. 

“Maybe now I’ll share.” he hums and my breath hitches. 

Licking my lips nervously I curse my body for still being attracted to his and curse any and everybody who says that women don’t struggle with the same sexual desires as men, because I am living proof that says otherwise right now. Unlike those people who use such statements in attempts to excuse their promiscuity, though, I am fully capable of reigning my urges in and ruling with my head. Mostly. I can’t help the way my legs squeeze more tightly around him, but I make a point of turning my face to the side when I answer, “If that’s what it takes to help you, then fine.”

I’m not sure what emotion I’m expecting him to respond with, but anger is not one of them — unfortunately, it’s the one I get. 

My breath whooshes out of me as my back is suddenly pushed against a wall. “If that’s what it takes?” he growls. Hands moving to firmly grip my thighs, keeping my legs wrapped around him, he roughly draws his nose along the column of my throat. He presses tightly against me, my robe falling open, forcing my chin up as he continues his aggressive administrations to my neck, switching between lips and nips of his teeth. I struggle to catch my breath, confused and somewhat frightened, my fingers tight enough in his hair to hurt him, I’m sure, though he does not let the grip pull him back. “And what if that something is this?” He nuzzles roughly behind my ear and my eyes fall shut on a gasp as he leaves openmouthed kisses along my jaw. “Or this?” his voice is low and sharp as he presses his lips to mine once, hard but quick, and I struggle not to hold them there longer. “Would you deny me?” he whispers furiously. “If I asked for this and more? If I demanded? If I _took_? Would you try and stop me, love?” he punctuates the last word with a grind of his hips and my eyes fly open, a whimper caught in my chest. 

“Why are you doing this?” I mean it to sound confronting, forceful, but it comes out weak and breathy. What had I said earlier about ruling with my head?

“That’s not an answer.” he snarls and latches onto my throat again, this time with enough force that I’m sure there will be a mark. “What if helping me only means hurting yourself? You would still do it, wouldn't you?” he whispers against the faintly stinging spot, brushing a kiss across it that is so gentle as to be apologetic. He seems to be calming down, some. “I refuse to harm you for my own wellbeing’s sake, Chihiro.” He pulls his face away and looks down on me, amber eyes glowing and hooded.

I can only rest my head against the wall and pant as I gaze up at him, body thrumming and mind roiling. “You - you promised.” I try again, just as weakly. 

“I know I did. And I will —“

“Then why the hell—?!”

“Let me finish!” he snaps, and I flinch with a nod. He closes his eyes and visibly reigns his anger in before lifting one hand to my face, cupping my cheek, and I can’t help but lean into it. “You must promise me something in return, Chihiro, if I fulfill my own promise by telling you. You must promise that no matter how bad things get for me, no matter how much you want to save me, you will not put your own happiness, your own health, your own _life_ at risk to try and help me. No more “if that’s what it takes”. Do you promise?”

“Why are you making me promise _this_?” I am starting to feel panic at the implications of his words — if whatever is plaguing him is potentially life threatening…What could be that bad? It only reaffirms my drive to help him, tempering it with trepidation.

“Because I know you, Chihiro, and time and time again you demonstrate a profound lack of instinct when it comes to your own self-preservation! What just happened only proves this. I know you do not love me, not the same as you used to, and that the only reason your cheeks flush when I get this close is from your body’s natural wants combating against your emotional needs and general sense of modesty. And yet you willingly put yourself into vulnerable positions, despite my erratic behavior, in which I could easily overpower you. All because you want to “help” me.”

“You would never hurt me.” I protest, more strength in my voice.

“What do you call what happened just now, then?” the growl is creeping back into his voice. 

“I don’t know,” I glare, “but not hurting. The opposite of hurting, quite frankly.” I admit despite the embarrassment, trying to prove my point.

“Just because your body found it pleasurable, doesn't mean you wanted it.” he hisses.

“Fine! You’re right. That’s the last thing I want to happen with you, despite the fact that it’s taking every ounce of self-control I have not to —“ I cut myself off with a sharp inhale, refusing to finish that thought and his eyes glitter. “But even though that’s the case, I did not stop you. I did not tell you no. I knew you wouldn't take it any further. And If I had been forced to tell you to stop, you would have.” I say with conviction. 

“And what about in the future? What if the next time you gamble with your life you _lose_? What if I _don’t_ stop when you tell me to? What if it’s not even _me_ that you’re trying to stop?” his face hovers close in front of mine again, his breath whispering across my cheeks.

“That won’t happen.” 

“You don’t know that, Chihiro.”

“Yes I do, Hisashi. I know you. You would never hurt me, not intentionally.”

“Oh, so if it’s an accident it’s all okay?”

“No. But it wouldn't be you doing it. Well, it would, but it would be an accident so, not really you.” It sounds weak even to my own ears and I wince. 

The lame rejoinder seems to break some of the tension, though, because Hisashi exhales a laugh and his forehead falls against my shoulder. “Please, Chihiro, just promise me. For shit’s sake, just do it.”

“And if I make this promise, you will finally tell me?”

“Yes.”

I pull at his hair where my fingers are still wound, and this time he allows me to force his head up and his gaze to meet mine again. “And by promise to tell, you don't mean try and avoid the subject, forcing me to in turn try and force you into answering, leading to body slams, hickeys and more promises?”

He grimaces. “One: your attempts at “forcing me” clearly sucked. Two: I was trying to make a pun with that first point and “sucking" and it backfired, but I’m sorry about the hickey. For…all of this. I took it farther than I meant to. But it still proved my point, so — three: yes. I promise. For real, this time. Okay, your turn.”

I let out a gust of air. “Fine. I promise. Now spill. But first put me down.”

“Right, sorry.” he loosens his hold and I slide to my feet, trying to hide just how shaky my knees are. “Let’s sit — it’s kind of a long story.” 

He starts towards the balcony and I follow him, but not before grabbing some pants and straightening the fingers I had crossed just moments before. 

.  
…  
xxxx  
…  
.

“Before I start, I need to make it clear that I will be as honest as I possibly can, but some things I can’t tell you.”

“What do you mean?” I frown across the small table between us, the typical city noises more quiet at such a great height. It takes a bit of effort not to just blurt out ‘but you promised!’ for the umpteenth time.

“I mean that as much as I want to, there are some things I can’t tell you or that I will have to gloss over, and I need you to understand that it’s not out of spite or stubbornness — it’s for your own safety. Can you accept that? Otherwise my lips remain sealed, second round of promises and hickey reparations or not.”

I mull his ultimatum over before shrugging my agreement, figuring it’s better than nothing and that I can try and wheedle him for more information later. Hisashi has always had a hard time saying no to me — I’m hoping this still holds true. 

“Okay,” he blows air out of his cheeks. “Where to begin, hmm…Well. You might not have ever thought of this, but I wasn't always rich.” I blink at him rather blankly. Okay. I’m not sure why this is relevant, but okay, yes, go on. “My family is…not good, Chihiro.” he scratches the back of his head in what looks like embarrassment which has me considering if armageddon is upon us, because I’ve never seen Hisashi embarrassed before. Looks like this weekend is shaping up to be one full of emotional firsts — crying, embarrassment.… what’s next, modesty?

“‘Not good’? So, they’re bad? Like, kick the dog and give out dental floss for halloween kind of bad?”

“Noo…more like sell you drugs, embezzle your money away and then shoot you when you try to go to the police kind of bad.”

“Um.”

“Yeah.” he somehow manages to crack a smile at the look on my face. “My Grandfather was a good man. Very well known, he gained his power through hard work and giving back to the community, but as he got older he fell on hard times, financially and health wise. My father decided to take over the household and bring the family in a “new direction”, and by the time my grandfather recovered, rather miraculously, it was too late. My father and, through him, my family-name, had become the founder and leader of one of Japan’s biggest crime syndicates.”

“Your dad’s a yakuza boss.” _Holy shit._

He nods. “I was born into and raised in the Kaonashi Gang. I was taught that you can never have enough: enough drugs, enough money, enough respect and power. If I ever showed even a hint of hesitation, I was beaten. If I ever showed an ounce of mercy — beaten. I learned quickly. By the time I was nine I knew how to make a mark, how to kill a man a dozen different ways, and was an active member in gang activity — a rising star, according to my father.” He laughs bitterly. 

“I was a monster and I hadn't even hit puberty yet. My mother died when I was small, my grandfather had retreated to some unknown and secluded place to escape what we had become — I had no one to watch over me or teach me differently. I was like this and with no regrets for…a long time. Longer than I ever want to admit. I did terrible, terrible things, Chihiro. There was nothing human about me, that’s how it seemed.” He pauses here, seeming pensive. “Until I met a girl.” his eyes light up at some memory that must be playing through his mind. 

“She was…well, lets just say that she was in the wrong place at the wrong time. And she completely blindsided me.” He now turns his attention fully to me, a soft smile on his lips, “She was scared, impulsive, but also fiercely loyal and kind to a fault; innocent and sweet and lost.” The smile turns mildly bitter, “She fell in love with someone else. I tried — I tried to share my affections with her, as they were, but she did not want them. I was…less than understanding. I did some awful things, I put her in more than one dangerous situation, yet despite all of that, she continued to treat me with true kindness. Treated me as a true friend. She forgave me, and through her efforts, I was able to leave the Kaonashi. She saved my life; my soul.” Again, he pauses, but I can’t read the emotions in his eyes this time around and I am afraid that if I ask, my voice will break whatever spell has fallen, coaxing this story out of him in a stream. 

“I went to apprentice with an old woman who lived deep in the country, away from the city, the violence, the greed, the crime. It was hard, honest work, and the woman was kind, but after awhile I began to feel restless. The same kind of restlessness I got when too much time passed between gang ordered jobs. I got scared, scared that that monster was still in me, and I ran. I made my way from town to town doing odd jobs here and there to ensure I had food in my belly and somewhere to sleep at night, but I faired quite poorly — the only skills I had, I refused to use, as they all dealt with death and corruption. Eventually, I decided to try and look for my grandfather. A few years passed, I learned how to earn money in ways that did not involve threats and knives, and I finally found him.

He answered his door and when he saw me, he wept. I had never seen someone cry for me, never been shown that level of care since the girl who first saved me, and after years of struggling on the streets…” he clears his throat roughly. “I forgave him for leaving me to that life. I couldn't not. In turn, I spent the next few months loved and happy — I finally had a family, a real one, however small. But what goes up must come down, right? My father finally tracked me down, and I had led him straight to my grandfather. My father worried that grandad’s name still meant something, that he would try and take over the gang.” he snorts, the noise indicating clearly how likely that would have been. “He killed him.” he shrugs and my eyes bulge slightly. “Well, he had him killed — God forbid he do his own dirty work — and ordered the goons who did it to pick me up and bring me back home while they were at it. I kindly denied the invitation and killed them both; it seemed I was only returning the favor.” his eyes cut to me, and I can tell that he’s monitoring my expression, looking for the revulsion and hatred he expects me to be feeling. And I do feel horrified but, strangely, not for the man sitting across from me who just admitted to committing murder. Twice. Instead, I sense the justice in those deaths, however twisted, and only feel horrified that Hisashi’s own father was this cruel, amazed that Hisashi grew up under such terrible circumstances and isn't a sociopath. Mostly, though, I just feel sorry and very, very sad. Hisashi recognizes this and his shoulders slump in clear relief. 

“Always seeing the good in me, aren't you?” he murmurs softly, but before I can respond he continues his story. “My grandfather had fallen financially, as I said, but he was still by no means poor. After his “passing”, I inherited his estate, moved to a small city known for it’s low crime rates, our city, and founded Hon Inc. The rest you know, and that brings us to today. Or, I guess, last night.” He squints into the distance, as if he can look past the towering buildings around us to the sky’s natural horizon. “The monster I felt stirring at the old woman’s house…he’s still there. I keep him buried, deep inside, but it’s like an instinct, a compulsion, and being in this type of environment dredges it back up to the surface. I feel like a dog, trained and conditioned to react a specific way given certain circumstances, and the city is that circumstance, the yakuza mobster that conditioned characteristic. No matter how hard I try to distance myself from that part of who I am, certain things trigger it to come back full force.” I reach out and grasp his hand in mine, giving silent support. “But the worst part, Chihiro? The worst part of this whole messed up damn thing is that I know it. I know it’s happening, I feel this darkness rising up in me, and I’m helpless to stop it. I feel the me I’ve worked so hard to become — the one I’ve starved for, bled for, killed for — the me that girl knew I could be — slipping away and being replaced by aggression, greed, desperation, and I can’t stop it. I become the one thing I despise: my father.” he shudders and I struggle to imagine what that feels like, losing yourself to something you hate; becoming the one person you never want to be like and being unable to stop it. He voices the thoughts in my head: “Having that awareness makes it that much more excruciating, makes it that much more worse as the additional stress and anger cause me to lash out more, act more unbalanced, makes me more mean. Makes the monster rise faster.” He hangs his head, “I realize that after last night this might all seem anti-climatic, but —“

“Stop. Don’t even finish that sentence.” my hold on his hand turns fierce, “Don’t you dare and diminish your feelings. Are you kidding me right now? You literally have been through hell and back, as a child, an adolescent and an adult, and you did so essentially all on your own. Of course that will leave scars, of course that will continue to affect you. Why would that be anti-climatic? Do not feel like you have to diminish the legitimacy of your traumas and their effects on you, Hisashi. Never do that. Pain and sorrow is relative, but even then yours would have been debilitating to so many. Honestly I think it’s a bit of a miracle you came out of all of that so well adjusted.”

“But I’m not well adjusted. I almost beat a man to a pulp yesterday and then had an emotional breakdown.” 

I shake my head, “There is literally nothing wrong with having a good cry. And I’m not excusing your behavior towards that guy, but people have done far worse for far less.”

“How is that not an excuse?”

“It’s perspective. While what happened was not okay, feeling guilty about it will not make it better — you have to acknowledge why it happened so that you can work to avoid such outbursts again in the future. Disparaging the credibility of your feelings and downplaying what you went through does nothing to help you.”

“Is that according to the psychiatrist in you?” he asks somewhat bitterly — his self-censure is too strong to allow him to accept my words; he does not feel worthy of grieving and healing.

“I don’t have to be a psychiatrist to know that you lived through some messed up shit and managed to come out of it a legitimately good person, to know that even though you messed up, that doesn't make you bad.” I can’t help but scoff before continuing more kindly. “I know it was very difficult to talk about your past, and I want you to know that I am honored that you trust me enough to share it with me. I am not trying to psychoanalyze you here, I am just responding as a friend who loves you. Hisashi, I am not judging you, I am not coddling you, I’m just telling you the truth, because that is what you deserve to hear: I don’t know how you made it this far. I don’t know how you are so sweet and kind, so sure of yourself, with all that you have seen and done. But I am so happy, because you mean so much to me, and you wouldn't be, well, you, if you hadn't had to live through all of that. If I could snap my fingers and magically change your past, even if it meant we never met, would I? Of course. Anything to spare you that pain. But there is no such thing as magic. So I can only be thankful that you are so resilient and that I managed to stumble into your life and you were too stubborn to let me kick you out of mine.”

His eyes soften and he covers our clasped hands with his other. “When we were together, I knew that all the shit I had been through was worth it. Every day I woke up tangled up in bed with you was a day I thanked whatever God had brought me to that point in life. But now?” I bite my lip and look away feeling horrid. “I’m not trying to guilt you, Chihiro, though that’s exactly what it sounds like. I’m just saying — before, the thing that kept me going in life, that gave me purpose, was you. Now I have nothing, just money.” he laughs bleakly. 

“We might not be romantically involved anymore, but I’m still here.” I murmur, “I wasn’t before — I was stupid and selfish — but I am now. That doesn't matter, though, because you don’t need me to make your life worthwhile, Hisashi.” My next words have sat heavily in my mind for weeks now, the same words I have comforted myself with now, hopefully, bringing comfort to my friend as I infuse them with as much love as I can. “You are enough.” I punctuate each word with a squeeze of my hand. Standing without breaking that clasp, I move forward and slowly lower myself onto his lap with a sharp look that has him chuckling softly. Once I am convinced that he will not be pinning me to the table or something, I reach up and gently pinch his chin between my free finger and thumb. “You are _more_ than enough. And while you don’t need me to make your life worthwhile, I think you might need me to help you remember that. So I swear to you, Kin Hisashi, that I will always be your friend — I will always be here to hold you when you are sad; to remind you that you are smart, funny and driven; to remind you that you are loved for who you are, not what you are; I will listen to your stupid jokes and laugh despite myself; I will put up with your cheesy one liners and attempts and flirting, your silly pet names and inappropriate remarks; I will kick your ass when you are being one yourself and stand up for you in those rare moments when you are not strong enough to do so yourself. I will help you to work through this trauma, not as a psychiatrist, but as a friend, and as a friend I will tell you every single day that you have worth and you deserve happiness of your own making, not somebody else’s — not even mine. This I, Ogino Chihiro, swear to you.” By the end of my lengthy speech, my voice is wobbly, as is the smile I give Hisashi, but he is speechless. He only gazes back at me, eyes blown wide with so many emotions I can’t read them all, though I pick out shock and disbelief. “I swear it.” I repeat with a fervent whisper, desperate to quash those self-critical emotions. 

His eyes shutter closed at that and he lets out a quivering sigh. “I don’t deserve you.” he chokes out.

I shake his chin rather roughly, angry at his words. “Nobody deserves friendship, they earn it, and you have earned mine completely and fully. What people deserve is to live their lives feeling fulfilled, and I’ll be damned if one of the few people I know who truly deserves a satisfied life does not get it.” He nods, but it is aimlessly done, not in form of agreement — he is overrun with emotion and simply acknowledging that I have spoken. Taking it as my queue, I stand and gently pull him to his feet. “Come on, dummy. We have a few hours before our first meeting. Let’s go be tourists.”

“But what if I — what if I start to go over that edge again?” he sounds mildly panicked. 

“Then I will pull you back.”

“How?” 

“I know I’ve been emphasizing our friendship this whole time, but psychiatrist here, remember?”

“Oh. Right.”

“And worse comes to worst I have a tranquilizer or two in my bag I can shoot you up with.” He turns to me with a horrified look on his face which quickly becomes contemplative and almost approving. “That was a joke.” I hurry on. “It will never come to that. Trust me.”

The muddy thoughts clear from his face, and when he focuses on me, it is with a clarity that I haven’t seen since we boarded the plane yesterday. “With my life.” 

My answering smile is as lovely and bright as his own.

.  
…  
xxxx  
…  
.

Strolling through the Ginza district and past stores which have me worrying about my bank account without even going inside, I keep my arm tucked firmly through Hisashi’s. His jaw is clenched, his shoulders drawn, but so far there have been no outbursts. The one time he came close was when another shopper knocked into his shoulder, but before Hisashi could open his mouth to yell at him, his free hand forming into a fist, I had wrapped my arms around his waist. It took a moment, but after a few tense seconds he had turned away from the apologetic man and his wife and wrapped his arms around me. We stood in our embrace until I felt he had returned fully to himself, and stepped away, linking our arms again and continuing on as if nothing had happened. He had looked at me thankfully and tried to buy me a purse which cost more than my last months rent. When I refused, he nearly begged me to let him buy me something, and with an eye roll I told him that he could get me one thing and one thing only, but only so long as it cost less than 1800 yen (about 15 USD).

As a result, I now stand next to a small cart on the shopping district’s outskirts as Hisashi haggles with the stocky old woman manning it. He seems to be enjoying the exchange with no sign of that strange desperation, so I take the moment of relative privacy to quickly text Ko.

_sent: I spoke with Hisashi._

_received: And?_

I snicker at what is becoming a decidedly typical “Ko response”.

_sent: And it was worse than I thought. But also better._

_received: What does that mean?_

_sent: It was not at all what I expected. Heartbreaking. But not hopeless._

Ko takes longer to respond this time, and I have a feeling he’s debating whether to ask for specifics. He doesn’t, though, instead asking _received: Is Hisashi okay, now?_

_sent: He’s not great, but things could certainly be worse. I’m pretty sure I know what’s been making him act out, though, especially in light of what he told me last night._

Another pause. _received: Do you feel comfortable sharing?_ I smile at how conscientious he always strives to be, but the smile fades as I type in the words.

_sent: I think he has PTSD._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How did you like the chapter?? Did I worry over nothing with regards to the dubious/non-consenting part? Honestly it was not how I originally planned this chapter going, but as I was writing it seemed necessary — I think it adds more complexity and believability to Chihiro and Hisashi’s interactions, solidifies certain aspects of their feelings, and serves to remind us who (what!) these characters really are. I still love Hisashi, and as a largely OC he’s still my bebie, so I hope I resolved it well enough that you don't all hate him lol. 
> 
> Please let me know if you find any parts of this uncomfortable. I tried my best to relate the play of emotion and mental states, and the kind of openness behind it which made it acceptable, in a way.  
> That also plays into the chapter name of Muscle Memory, hinting at the way in which their physicality is familiar at this point, if not necessarily wanted; it is comforting and easy to go back to.  
> This, in turn, emphasizes the very real reality that as humans, our minds and bodies do not always align in their wants and needs.  
> I don't want this to always be some happy-go-lucky story, I want it to be realistic, and having these opposing forces playing within characters makes them more real, I think — esp when it comes to Chihiro. She's not completely the sweet little girl she was — she’s a woman and she is complicated and confused and very much *human*, in the realest sense possible.  
> And that includes having a troublesome libido ahaha
> 
> With regards to Hisashi having PTSD, it seemed the closest fit, and I hope that I treat it respectfully and delicately enough as this fic continues. Please let me know what you think.  
> Also, did you notice what his family gang name is? MAJOR HINT/CHARACTER CONFIRMATION lol
> 
> Please comment what you thought and I hope you stick with me for the next chapter!  
> THANK YOUUUU!
> 
> x


	7. Smile Like You Mean It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> .....I seem to have a tradition of making super long end notes (and beginning notes), but that’s because I love to interact with you, the readers, as much as I can, and this is the most convenient mode of doing so.  
>  I also layer so much information into my writing that sometimes I get nervous it won’t be noticed, and feel it’s necessary to point out. I hope you all don't take this to mean that I doubt your powers of observation, but rather that I doubt my ability to carry things out properly in my writing, and so feel the need to clarify lolol. I do hope you enjoy these little notes, though :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEYO  
> Thank you so, so much for all your positive feedback on the last chapter! I thought I would burst with happiness!!   
> I’m sorry there was a longer wait for this one — I really slammed those two last ones out so quickly, within like 4 days of each other, that it left me creatively depleted. I didn't want to force the words and end up with rubbish, so decided to take it more slowly. I hope this chapter makes the wait worth it! 
> 
> As this fic progresses, it becomes more mature in terms of content and language, so just keep that in mind while reading. I try to never be crass or include gratuitous details for the mere sake of shock value, though, so hopefully nothing is scandalizing haha. Having said that, possible TW for violence and language (? honestly I have no idea what to label for TW, so if any of you have a concern, please message me (my tumblr has messaging as well, with anon for your convenience (more info at the end of these notes)) and I will make sure to warn for those issues)
> 
> Please comment and let me know what you think! Seriously! I crave your feedback! Don’t be afraid to criticize moments you disliked, and if a particular line or interaction strikes your fancy or makes you laugh, please, please let me know! It makes the agonizing over my sluggish laptop for hours infinitely worth it, knowing what you think and receiving confirmation that someone out there is enjoying the fruit of my labors! I’ve been messaging back and forth with a few of you here, and I’ve loved every moment of it! — answering your questions, exploring motives, just listening to your general feedback and hopes. It’s amazing!  
> Thank you, thank you, thank you!
> 
> OH! And come follow me on tumblr! kalipeda.tumblr.com! I post lots of Studio Ghibli + Spirited Away stuff, as well as sneaky peakies of upcoming chapters and updates with regards to when they will be posted! I will probably also start posting answers from some of the private messages, if I think they are relevant and potentially helpful to you, the readers!
> 
> I have also decided to start taking requests for oneshots, so message me here or on tumblr to see if I am familiar with your fandom and I will engage your prompt! :)  
> Okay, thank you again and ENJOY!
> 
> X

I’ve just told Ko that I will call him tonight when Hisashi turns to me, face alight in victory. “One gift of less than 1800 yen — ta da!” he hands over his well-fought prize with a flourish. 

“Um,” my brow scrunches, “What is it?”

Hisashi rolls his eyes with a sigh, “It’s a charm for your phone.” The ‘duh’ thinly layered behind his words.

I take the charm with my own eye roll; giving voice to what he did not, “Duh. But of what?”

“Oh! It’s a bath token! I think they’re usually much bigger than that.”

I glance at the small wooden rectangle, painted with a shiny, red lacquer and decorated with two mirrored gold triangles. “Huh. Um. Why?” I scratch my temple as I continue to examine the token.

Hisashi makes an ‘I don't know’ sound before gesturing to the old woman behind the cart. “Frog man said it would bring you healing and good luck, though he was somewhat loathe to part with it.”

“Frog _Man_?” I am forced to take a double look at the person I previously thought was a woman, and who is now glaring at Hisashi and me. I wave halfheartedly, embarrassed, “Thank you!” I manage to strangle out before pulling Hisashi away. “He totally heard us both,” I groan.

“Eh. What I don't understand is how you saw his mustache and still thought he was a woman!” 

“Thyroid imbalance is a real thing and he was very shapely.” I snap.

“He looked like a squat little frog,” Hisashi nods as if I’ve proven his point. 

“ _You’re_ a frog,” I mutter. Hisashi just laughs and loops his arm through mine.

 

xxx︎

 

After fending off a few more of Hisashi’s attempts to foist expensive things on me, the two of us make our way to the Studio Ghibli headquarters. The next few hours pass by in a blur. We meet with illustrators and conceptual designers, animators and scriptwriters; it seems that not one person is overlooked as we are introduced to the team that will be making my book into a film. As it’s the first day, we do not get into any nitty-gritty details, instead spending the time to get to know each other and establish a general consensus with regards to the main focuses we want the animated version of my book to take. At the end of it all, I am left feeling surer than before of both myself and this undertaking — as well as more nervous. Though the nerves have less to do with anxiety than they do anticipation. Throughout the multitude of meetings, Hisashi remains mostly silent by my side, only speaking when asked a question directly and after bowing his introductions. I know that he does it on purpose, to force me to take the lead and so that I don’t fall back on allowing him to take charge — in this, at least, he knows that I do not need to be guided or taken care of, and instead he allows his quiet presence to simply bolster my feelings of security and confidence. 

We agree on a schedule for the next week, deciding that we will begin with tomorrow off to take in some sights before dedicating the rest of our waking hours for the rest of our stay here to work. Bidding the crew goodnight we head back to the hotel, traveling the short distance by bus. Even though dark has fallen, the city is alive with light and sound, tourists and natives alike walking the street in pursuit of various forms of entertainment. Looking out the window, I take in the vivacious nightlife, superimposed by my own reflection on the glass as well as that of Hisashi’s. I take a moment to assess his features; I reflect on this morning and am pleased that we were able to avoid any real outbursts, though the furrows around his eyes and the thin line of his mouth seem to now indicate that even the indomitable Hisashi has his limits. I startle somewhat as I realize that said eyes are glaring at my own reflection in the glass and I turn to him sheepishly. Busted.

“See something you like?” his eyes gleam, not quite mean, but not exactly happy-go-lucky, either. 

“That depends,” I decide to be frank with him, knowing that Hisashi has never appreciated anything even resembling being coddled, “Are you going to spend the rest of this bus ride being an ass, or are you going to take a breath and tell me what’s going through your head right now to make you frown like that?”

He bites out a laugh, but the tension in his face and shoulders fades somewhat. “Ah, Chihiro. Ever the observant one, aren't you?” 

I only shrug in response.

“Fine, fine,” he waves, leaning back in his seat and crossing one long leg over the other. Glancing out the window, we lock eyes through our reflections again, “This is all so…familiar: nighttime in the city, the hustle of bodies, the exchange of goods and cash. It puts me back in the past. Being in the center of things, I can’t help it — I don’t see people enjoying themselves, I see marks to be hustled. This is the wire mob’s hour.”

“The what?”

“Wire mob — it’s what pickpocketing crews call themselves. Well, among other things. That’s how I started, ya know? As a pickpocket. A chubby little six-year-old makes a good stall, a good distraction, and an even better wire — who expects some innocent little tyke to lift your wallet? And even if he kisses the dog —“

“What??” I am thrown by how easily he slips into street slang that I don’t understand, as well as by his passing admission. _Six years old??_

“Even if his face is seen,” he explains somewhat impatiently, “What’re you gonna tell the cops? That you were robbed by a baby? Hope that the sketch artist captures his dimple and missing front teeth properly? Tch. I guarantee you that looking out this window, we’ve seen at least a dozen people lose the contents of their pockets without even knowing it.”

Suddenly the view, which had seemed boisterous and jolly, becomes much more sinister. Maybe that man at the corner isn't waiting for his date, maybe he’s looking for his next victim. That woman running towards a restaurant might not be late to meet with her friends, and is instead fleeing a crime scene. 

I shake my head with a mollifying look. “Hisashi, if you only expect the bad, that’s all you’re going to get. That’s the Law of Cause and Effect.”

“The Law of Cause and Effect says that what energy you put out you get back.”

“Eh, close enough. My point is, you’re never going to be able to move beyond your past if it’s the only thing you insist on focusing on.”

“It’s kind of hard not to, knowing what I know, having done what I have. I don’t have that kind of naiveté to live my life hoping for the best, looking only for the good in people. Life isn't that kind. It never has been. You’re either the one doing the conning or the one being conned, in one way or another.”

My voice gentles as I turn to face Hisashi, head tilting to the side. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe this world is purely cutthroat, made up of the weak and the strong. But what takes more strength — living life as a pessimist, letting your paranoia rule how you think and how you act? Or simply accepting that, yeah, there is a lot of shit in life, but there’s a lot of beauty and happiness, too. And that good stuff makes all the shitty stuff worth it.” I can’t help but sigh yet again, “Allowing yourself to see the positive in situations and people isn't being naive — it’s being strong, it’s refusing to give into the tide of negativity; it’s accepting, _demanding_ , even, that you deserve to live a good life. You are not ignoring the bad out there — you are denying it any power over you.”

“That sounds lovely, Chihiro, really it does. I just don't see myself getting to a point in life where I can accept that type of reality as my own. Where I can’t see it as anything more than a fantasy.”

“Hisashi, changing your worldview doesn't happen over night. It happens gradually, over time and with hard work. But it is possible — remember why I wrote my books? I’ve also lived through this type of struggle. I fought to be happy. You’re going to have to fight for it, too. Can you do that?”

He lets out a noisy gust of air. “And how do I do that, exactly?”

I smile. “You start small. You might not believe me when I tell you that there is more good than bad out there, but you can acknowledge what I have said and actively think about it. When you observe those people and things around you, force yourself to look for at least one good thing happening, no matter how simple, be it someone holding a door open or offering a stranger a tissue. Focus on the positive. The more you do, the more you will see it.”

“It’s hard —“ he clenches his jaw before forcing himself to relax and continue, “It’s hard for me to focus on anything else. Once I get into that state. Once my past starts to take over. I’m not sure that I’m strong enough not to fall back.”

“You are. I swore to help you, to remind you of your own capabilities — well, here’s me keeping that promise. You are more than strong enough. You’re just scared.”

He lets out an incongruous laugh, “Scared? How the hell does that make me scared?”

“Change is always scary, Hisashi.”

He opens his mouth to reply, but is cutoff by someone exiting the bus basically falling into his lap. “Oh my, I’m so sorry, sir! Lost my balance there. Have a good night!” The man, who seems to be a handful of years older than us and is dressed nondescriptly in shades of black, offers us a bland smile as he rights himself. Before he can take one step away, however, Hisashi snakes out his arm and latches onto the man’s wrist in what looks like a punishing grip, even from my vantage point. 

“My wallet, if you would.” Hisashi’s voice is calm and even, at stark odds with the fury I can see boiling in his eyes. Part of me worries that he is having another episode like at the airport, acting irrationally towards a man who simply tripped, but as I study said man my suspicions fade. Everything about him is plain and drab, to the point where it begins to look too nondescript and, instead, planned — a means of floating under the radar and being easily forgotten. That and the way his eyes subconsciously flick to the pocket Hisashi keeps his wallet in has me frowning with my own anger. Less about the wallet being stolen, and more because this would-be thief’s timing couldn't be any worse — I just barely had Hisashi considering my attempts to convince him that people can be redeemed, when lo and behold a friggin thief comes to completely upend all my hard work. What the hell, man?

I’ve never been a violent person, outside of the occasional punch to Hisashi’s shoulder and smack to the back of his head (always for good reason, of course), but I find myself clenching my fists and grinding my teeth as I take in the shifty eyed fellow who keeps his head tilted away from us the entire time — probably something to do with the kissing of the dogs or whatever Hisashi called it earlier. The thief — the wire, I mentally correct myself — licks his lips and looks around, anywhere but at us; I have no clear idea as to what his face looks like. 

Hisashi had spoken about pickpocketing _mobs_ , and I feel the anger leek away a tiny bit and give way partially to nervousness as I wonder whether we’re about to be attacked en masse. Sensing my growing discomfort, Hisashi addresses me, while keeping his eyes and grip on the wire. “Don’t worry, Chihiro, this is way to confined a public setting for anything truly drastic to happen. And even then, I could handle this one here _and_ a few more, easily. I’m just wondering what made him stupid enough to think this was a good idea? A _crowded_ bus I could understand: wedged in and amongst each other, a simple lift would go undetected. But a bus with not even half a dozen other people on it? By himself? Using the old and worn out bump-grab-and-lift technique? Pf. Not only that, but he was supposedly exiting the bus when he fell in my lap, only he completely ignored the open back doors which he passed on his way by us and to the front.” I can’t help but snicker, now, feeling relieved and vindicated — as well as impressed by Hisashi’s observances. 

“I - I don’t know what you’re —“

“Ugh, shut up before I break this wrist.” Hisashi snaps at him, his anger starting to take control. Shit. Right. Childhood-life-of-crime PTSD sufferer. Anything funny about the situation dies immediately. “The only reason I can think of that you would be desperate enough to act so stupidly is that you’re trying to impress your cannon, or whoever is leading your group — but at the rate things are going for you, I can guarantee you’ll be sorely disappointed over more than just a failed lift. So give me the wallet, idiot, before I demand it back with interest in the form of your teeth.”

The man lets out a severe cuss under his breath before reaching for an inside pocket in his hoody. He drops the wallet on Hisashi’s lap with a leer, finally turning to really look him in the face as he opens his mouth to no doubt let out a few more swear words, but he freezes with his mouth open in shocked silence. Hisashi, instead, lets out a violent string of curses; letting go of the pickpocket’s wrist so suddenly you’d think he’d been burned. 

“Nashi-Heika?” the man whispers, and Hisashi turns gray. 

_Nashi-Heika?_ I think to myself, _Who the hell is that?_ And then it dawns on me: _Nashi. As in Kaonashi, Hisashi’s father’s gang_. Now it’s my turn to let out a chain of expletives. After years of running, of hiding, of starting over, Hisashi has just been found. And it’s my fault. 

 

xxx

 

This time it’s Hisashi growling denials, “I don't know what you’re talking about.” As much as I hope the pickpocket listens and continues on his merry way, Hisashi’s suddenly pallid complexion and use of four letter words just now might not be have been so helpful in making his case. 

Instead of fighting the issue, the pickpocket turns his attention to me. With the realization of Hisashi’s identity, all of his prior apprehension has faded into what I can only describe as a smug attitude. “Who’s your pretty friend?” he grins meanly. 

“That’s none of your business.”

“What did you call her earlier? Chihiro? Nice name. Sounds kinda familiar, though.”

“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll step off this bus on the next stop and pretend that you’ve never seen her before in your life.” Hisashi’s voice is cold and menacing, sharper than steel. 

“And if you know what’s good for you, you’ll be getting off that stop with me, Nashi-Heika.” This time the honorific title is layered with sarcasm; this ass knows he has the upper hand, here. “We’ve been looking for you for a very long time. The boss is…less than happy.”

Hisashi’s hand whips out and takes hold of the same wrist again. “If I get off this bus with you, it’ll be to break more than your wrist,” he growls, tightening his grip even further. The other man winces noticeably and only barely contains a cry of pain. “If you know who I am, you know what I am capable of and that my threats are never empty. Unhappy boss or not, orders or not, you sure you want to risk that?”

Terror bleeds into the man’s voice as Hisashi’s words work through his thoughts, his hand punishing in its hold, “Okay, okay! I’ll get off the bus! Just let go of my arm, man!”

“Excuse me?”

“I mean, I meant, please! Nashi-Heika! I beg you, please be so kind as to let me go!” this time the whimper comes through clearly. 

Hisashi flings his limb away with a disgusted look on his face. “If in your desperate attempt to gain my father’s favor, you’re stupid enough to tell him about me, fine. But don't you dare utter a single word about my companion here — if you do, a broken wrist will be the least of your worries, I promise.”

The man, once freed, scurries back while rubbing his wrist furiously. Now that Hisashi no longer has a hold on him, the thief seems to be regaining some of his former courage. He seems too stupid to learn from what just happened. Edging closer to the door and still rubbing his already bruising wrist he spits,“You think you’re so tough? A dishonored nobody? Your father will find you _and_ your bitch. _Chihiro_.” Abruptly, a flash of realization lights his face. “Wait a minute. Chihiro?” He lets out a spiteful laugh, “Isn’t she that brat who —“ Faster than lightening, the man’s words are cut off by Hisashi lunging from his seat and punching him square in the face. 

At this point the other scattered members on the bus have taken notice to the drama-taking place on their evening commute, but Hisashi pays them no heed. The thief goes down, and Hisashi follows him. Straddling the thief’s legs, he has one hand fisted around his shirt while the other rains down punch after punch. “Wipe that smile off your face,” the words seem to be ripped from somewhere deep and dark. “You’re still smiling. Let me really give you something to smile about,” and his punches gain speed. 

“Hisashi!” I cry, throwing myself at him. “Hisashi, no! Stop!” I kneel next to him and wrap my arms around his neck and arm, trying to restrain him as I push my face into his line of sight. “Enough! It’s enough! Look! He’s not smiling anymore! You can stop! Please, Hisashi!”

My words finally penetrate the fog of fury. His arm still raised to strike, Hisashi gradually comes back to himself with slow blinks. 

“That’s it,” I reassure him. My voice trembles as do my hands, which I gently stroke his cheeks with. “You’re fine. You can stop, now. You’re safe, I’m safe, everything is okay.”

His raised fist moves to clench the hair at the back of his head as his eyes fall closed on a shudder, which racks his entire body. “Off.”

“What?” My voice poorly hides my oozing panic, my mind whirling as it tries to reconcile what’s just happened. How do I fix _this_? 

“The bus. We need to get off the bus. Now.” His eyes snap back open and he surges up, pulling me tightly to his side and to the doors as we approach a stop. I glance back once and regret it immediately — the would-be-thief’s face is barely recognizable as one, instead just a brutalized mess of broken bones and blood, his eyes swollen shut already, a few teeth noticeably missing. He is unconscious. The other passengers have gathered at the back of the bus, far from the fight, and eye us fearfully, one or two speaking frantically on their cellphones as they call the police. Shit. Hisashi only nods his acknowledgment as his eyes sweep over the same scene. “Now.” he emphasizes and I nod back, albeit much more wildly. _How do I fix this?_

 

xxx

 

Stepping off the bus, I cling to Hisashi’s side as shock sets in, useless observations filtering through my mind. _Oh look, a puppy. She has a nice jacket. Is it going to rain? Oh man, I think I got some blood on my shoes._ A giggle escapes me as I look down and, sure enough, they’re speckled a rusty red. I giggle again, but slap a hand over my mouth before it can grow into something more hysterical. _Keep it together._

Hisashi’s grip on me only tightens, though the quick pace he has set in no way slows — in fact, it quickens. In a way, this is better as my breaths begin to come out in quick puffs; the extra concentration on the physical action helps to distract me from having a minor breakdown. Somewhere far back in my mind, I applaud myself for not dissolving into a full-blown panic attack. Yay, go me. 

After nearly twenty minutes of Hisashi’s demanding pace I am beginning to flag, though I have managed to organize my tumultuous thoughts, ordering myself to only accept the bare facts and to securely lock away any stray horror or disturbance behind a thick, steel door in my mind to be (maybe) sorted through at a later, less terrifying date. 

Composure regained, I set my heels in and force Hisashi to come to a stop. We have navigated into a neighborhood nearly devoid of traffic, its inhabitants no doubt all snug in their beds. Like I really wish I was. “Where are we going? What are you planning on doing?”

He lets out an exasperated sigh and tries to pull me on, but I stand firm. He registers my resolve and throws his arms up before dragging them through his hair. The strands, normally slicked back attractively, stand in disarray. Ordinarily I would find it comical. Instead, it just emphasizes how serious our situation is right now. “We need to get out of the city center, we need to hide. I’m bringing us somewhere we can lay low for a day or two until we can leave Tokyo all together.”

In the midst of this new threat not only to Hisashi’s life, but also my own, the words that spill from my lips now should not be high on my list of concerns, but I can’t stop myself from quietly asking, “What about Studio Ghibli? What about my work — _your_ work? We have off tomorrow, but after that? They'll be expecting us.”

He stares at me, sympathy reading clear in his expression, as he shakes his head, “I’m sorry, Chihiro, but I’d rather our deal fall through than that you lose your life.”

Now I’m shaking my head, resolution forming. “No. It can’t be that-that final! This movie, these books, are about more than just me and you know it. I won’t make you risk your life — in fact I think you should get on the next flight out of here — but I refuse to run. This is too important.”

“More important than your own life?!” he shouts, stomping close.

“If this movie can help even one other person to overcome their troubles, to feel strong enough to keep on living, then yes!”

“Holy shit, Chihiro, I am not having this conversation with you right now. Because if you keep demonstrating how willing you are to throw your life away, I might strangle it out of you before the gang gets a chance to.”

“Then stop arguing and just accept my decision,” I growl.

“I can’t!”

“Why not?!”

“Because I —!” He cuts himself off abruptly, biting his lip. 

“You what?” I whisper.

“Because,” he bites out, and then turns on his heel and begins marching again, not bothering to check if I will decide to follow him or not. I wonder what he was going to say.

Deciding that as much as I want to just go back to the hotel room, to wait things out there while covertly traveling back and forth to the studio for the next two weeks, I know things will not be that easy. So I exhale a grumble and jog to catch up with Hisashi’s retreating form. “I’m calling Ko as soon as we get to this ‘safe place’,” I warn him sternly. 

“So we can bring more victims into this mess?” he snorts.

I blush at the implication but continue doggedly, “I know he would want me to, and I trust him — as much as I trust you. Besides, calling him on the phone is not the same as asking him to come and play bodyguard.”

Hisashi only grunts in response, and we continue walking through the shadowed streets in grudging silence. 

 

xxx︎

 

“You are not coming to Tokyo.” The words are yelled, as much as they can be in a whisper, my hand cupped over my mouth as I glance around to make sure I am alone. And, indeed, the only objects that meet my eyes are the dilapidated structures of a long forgotten shrine. 

When Hisashi said he knew of a safe place, the last place I expected to be led to was here. After marching through streets for another half an hour or so, he had brought me down a long dirt road which terminated in an unexpected grove of trees on a large hill. I had marveled at their size and width — they were much older than would seem natural in the middle of a developed city. The trees came second, however, to the surprisingly large shrine. After passing under the Torii, we made our way up the dilapidated stone stairs. Approaching the shrine we passed the purification font which, surprisingly, was full of cold, clean water, and which we made use of out of respect, cleaning our hands and mouths. Overgrowth of vines and weeds and general disrepair could not hide the ornamentation of what had been a grand shrine at one point, consisting of a Honden and a spacious Hall of Offerings, their gabled roofs now covered with moss and grass.

Stopping in front of the Hall of Offerings, I had finally turned to Hisashi with what I was sure was a dumbfounded look on my face, “Uhh — what?” I had never received any indication that Hisashi was religious, beyond a vague acknowledgment of Intelligent Design.

“It’s safe,” was his only answer, and then he had walked away to a wall of Ema, looking somehow defeated. 

I had returned to the purification font and, sitting on its wooden floor, immediately pulled out my phone to tell Ko about our colorful evening. He had listened to my recounting without interruption before finally stating in a voice that brooked no argument, “Look on the map on your phone for where you are exactly — I’m leaving tonight.”

Now, I repeat my whisper-yell again in case the first time wasn't clear enough. “You are not coming! Did you not hear the part about life-threatening gangs?!” 

“Exactly, Chihiro, that’s why I _need_ to come — you need help!”

Frustrated, I can’t help the way my voice picks up some volume, “What you _need_ to do is stay safe at home and use that brain of yours to help me come up with a fix that doesn't involve risking your own neck, too.” Meanwhile, Hisashi’s words from earlier are echoing through my thoughts, and I can’t help but wonder if I should have listen to him and never picked up the phone to begin: _So we can bring more victims into this mess?_ I don't know what I would do if Ko was hurt because of me. 

“This might surprise you, Chihiro, but I am an adult who is fully capable of taking care of himself. You don't have to worry about me getting hurt — just worry about yourself until I get there.”

“Well, you can’t ‘get there’ unless I tell you where ‘there’ even is, which I don't plan on doing, so pthhllddt.” I actually am a 5 year old, as I blow a raspberry through the line, venting my aggravation in a healthy, mature way. 

“Actually, I’m with Ren and Rumi, and she just activated your gps tracking,” the noise I make is high-pitched and laced with extreme indignance and more than a smidge of betrayal, but his voice plows over me, “so you can continuing making such attractive noises all night, if you want, but you’ll be seeing me come morning.”

I’m frantic now; I can’t put Ko at risk. “Nowaitplease! Ko, don’t! Just stay home! Hisashi and I will be fine, we can manage on our own, we don’t need you!” I realize how mean that last bit might sound, and bite my tongue as I wait in nervous silence.

On the other line, I hear Ko let out a quiet breath. “No, you don’t need me to manage,” he says warmly, “I have complete faith in your capabilities. But if you think for one second that I will not do anything and everything in my power to help someone I love who is in need, then you better think again. I’ll see you soon, Chihiro.” And with that he hangs up.

I sit there, phone still pressed to my ear and mouth hanging open in a wide ‘oh’. Had he really said that? _Someone I love._

Well, damn.

My moment of astonishment is broken by the sound of shuffling feet behind me. “He’s coming anyway, isn't he?” The words sound resigned, rather than smug.

“Only because Rumi is a traitor and a cheat,” I grumble, lifting myself to my feet and turning. 

Hisashi looks calmer than he has in hours and I sigh in quiet relief. He catches the movement and smiles gently, “Well we always knew that about her, anyway.” I raise my brows with a snort and a nod. “Come on. I found some old tatami mats that haven't been nibbled to pieces by mice. Let’s try and get a little shut eye before the infamous boyfriend gets here.”

“Wha - he - he’s not my! Pf, as if! He’s not my b-boyfriend! Ha! That’s funny.”

Hisashi raises his eyes to the ceiling and groans, “I’m glad I chose a shrine for us to hide in — maybe my prayers for you will finally be answered.”

“Yeah, that I don't hurt you in your sleep!” 

“Oh, I’ve already got an entire gang itching at my life — what’s one more threat? Especially such a cute one.”

“That’s not funny, Hisashi,” I frown, his joke doing little to lighten the reality of his words.

“It’s kinda funny.”

“Just show me where the mats are,” I groan tiredly. Laughing, he slings an arm over my shoulders and guides me back towards the main hall. 

I can’t tell if the feeling building in my chest is dread or anticipation for the oncoming morning — when the two most important men in my life will finally meet. 

Oh, and hopefully when won’t all be horribly killed by the yakuza. Yeah. There’s that, too. 

 

xxxxxxxxxx

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What Did you think??? :)
> 
> Firstly, by calling the stall man a ‘frog man with a mustache’ i was implying exactly what I’m sure many of you thought I was — if in doubt, or if that statement made no sense to you, just google image “spirited away foreman” (idk how Chihiro thought he was a lady, either, but that’s okay — we’ll let it go for now haha). I also loved the idea of the bath token charm, considering the significance :’) and, in an act the way Chihiro came by it very much mirrors the past: Hisashi essentially stole it from frog man via his haggling, before giving it to her xD
> 
> Holy crap, guys, I just realized that Hisashi is such a play off of a certain anime character named Levi which many of you are familiar with I’m sure and I am both laughing and crying because how the hell did that happen??? Save me from my subconscious and the whirlwind of thoughts and ideas that are not even mine but which inspire and shape my own work D: I only realized this when I had him say ‘tch’ and ‘brat’ within the same sentence and then was like shit, no! and had to change it (I EVEN GAVE HIM AN UNDERCUT. WHAT. AT LEAST HISASHI IS VERY, VERY TALL. EMPHASIS ON TALL. AND HE ALSO SMILES LOTS. *cries*) …..Has anyone else drawn this conclusion? It was an accident, I swear !! lol
> 
> Also, I had to do some research on pickpocketing and stumbled on this cool article:  
> http://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2013/01/07/a-pickpockets-tale  
> It talks about pickpocketing and the way it reveals the inner workings of the human mind and how we function/pay attention. Pretty interesting if you wanna check it out!  
> Some terminology here:  
> http://www.corporatetravelsafety.com/safety-tips/category/pickpockets/tip/common-pickpocket-techniques
> 
> Kaonashi translated means ‘without a face’, Kao = face, Nashi = without. The use of a negative/void seemed more fitting as a shortened name for Hisashi than just straight up “Face” lol  
> Heika means your majesty and is used for sovereign Japanese royalty. I figured using it would be a good indicator of just how messed up/warped Hisashi’s dad and gang is, as well as the power they wield. Bad guys, yo. 
> 
> About the shrine: a Torii is a Shinto gate; the approach to the shrine is actually called a Sandō; the Temizuya is one name for the purification font; the Honden is the sanctuary which houses the kami, or god(s); the Heiden is the hall of offerings which is open to regular folks; Ema are wooden prayer plaques. :)
> 
> OKAY THAT IS ALL, THANK YOU AND I LOVE YOU PLEASE COMMENT BECAUSE I LIKE THOSE <3
> 
> P.S. Shout out to reader Trastuspies (via fanfiction.net) for their suggestion regarding making use of a shrine — the “interesting finding” you thought would make good reading will continue in the next chapter! Thank you!


	8. Surprises are Overrated

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my dears! I am such trash, I am so sorry for keeping you all waiting for so long. I intended to post more regularly, but sometimes life has a way of kicking you in the face and saying "nope." I'm alright, don't fret, I just feel so bad I haven't posted in so long! So here -- have two chapters in quick succession! 
> 
> I intend on fishing this fic, so even if there are long pauses between posts, know that it's just as a result of my ineptitude and not because I've actually given up.
> 
> Please enjoy and hit me up in the comments/on tumblr @ kalipeda 
> 
> (more notes at the end, as per usual, btw)
> 
>  
> 
> potential TW for quasi-panic attack, blood and semi-selfharm (nothing drastic, my peaches, but figured I'd heads-up ya, anyways)

I can't help but find it a little difficult falling asleep in the middle of an old, abandoned prayer hall — that, and potentially blasphemous — but eventually the overload of emotions from the day’s events — the highs of Studio Ghibli and the lows of Hisashi being found out — drag me under. My sleep is restless and plagued by nightmares which I am thankful not to remember when I wake up, but by the time I do open my eyes to the new day, I feel almost worse than when I laid down. With a grown, I disentangle myself from the pile of limbs that I’ve managed to become entangled with again — my face pressed into his neck, his fingers on my thighs and hips, our legs locked together. I tell myself that we were conserving body heat since we hadn't been able to find any blankets, and then roll my eyes and let out a huff of breath at my own lame excuse. Hisashi, magically, only rolls onto his stomach and continues to snore as I tiptoe away. 

I head back towards the purification font, intending to wash the sleep from my eyes, when I catch sight of a figure cresting the stairs. I freeze in place as a whirlwind of emotions crashes through me: dread that he has actually come, despite the fact that he could come to harm; anger that he has actually come, despite my begging him not to; awe that he has actually come, despite the risk he faces; and, above all else, relief that he has actually come, despite the fact that he could come to harm, that I begged him not to, though he faces such risk. Relief unlike any I’ve ever felt swoops through my stomach and has me letting out a gasp which almost a moan. And then I am running. Knees knocking, elbows pumping, I fling myself at him, wrapping my arms tight around his neck. “ _Ko!_ ”

He doesn't even stumble with the force my body colliding against his, doesn't hesitate in burying his face into my hair, winding his arms around me and lifting me off of the ground. I fold my legs around his waist and am wracked by tearless sobs, very close to hyperventilating as I struggle to contain all the opposing emotions within me.

“You’re an idiot,” I wail into his chest which I’ve smothered my face against. “You shouldn't have come.” But the tightening of my arms and legs belies the words.

Ko doesn't answer, only begins rubbing circles into my back as he carries me to the well and sits on one of its steps. 

Eventually I am able to calm down, and lower my arms to wrap low around his waist, laying my cheek against his shoulder as I open my eyes. The trees sway hypnotically in a light breeze which soothes my heated cheeks. “Thank you,” I whisper softly, turning my face into his neck. “Even though it makes you an idiot, thank you. For coming.”

I hear the smile as he brings his hand to the nape of my neck, giving it a delicate squeeze, “Nothing could've stopped me. Even becoming an idiot.”

I cant help but snort at that and pull back to get a better look at Ko’s face. In doing so, I suddenly and all at once become very much aware of the fact that I am straddling him, our hips flush, as my legs are still crossed behind him, his one arm tight around my waist, the other having slid from the back of my neck to cup its side, his thumb playing against my collar bone. 

If I thought that being in a similar position with Hisashi was arousing, it’s nothing compare to the fire that lights low in my belly now. 

I can feel the flush in my cheeks spread violently through the rest of my face and down my neck as my breath catches in my throat, an audible choking noise which only makes me blush worse. “I-I-uh-,” I stutter, trying desperately to banish the sudden urge I have to lean forward the few inches separating my lips from his.

His brow furrows as he notices my sudden agitation and change in color, “What-?” he begins to ask before being cut off.

“Chihiro! Are you over here?” Hisashi’s voice calls out, and I am abruptly jumping up from Ko’s lap, straightening my shirt self consciously as he rounds the corner. “There you are! I was worried when I woke up and you weren't there. I figured…you’d…” his voice trails off confusedly as his eyes instantly take in my burning face, and I cant help but nervously lick my lips. His brow furrows, “What -?” but then Ko is standing up and Hisashi’s gaze moves from me to take in this new person. “Oh. You must be Ko,” he grimaces.

“I must be,” Ko says evenly, turning to face him. 

And they both freeze.

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” Ko chokes out, sounding equal parts confounded and furious, and my draw drops — I don’t think I’ve heard him swear once.

Hisashi’s face reflects the same battle of emotions before a blank mask slides into place, his eyes going empty. He laughs sardonically, long and hard, before turning back to me. “ _This_ is the boyfriend?” he sneers.

“I told you he’s not my —“

“Well, damn, Chihiro,” he cuts me off, his face still expressionless but his voice positively bleeding hurt, “You sure know how to kick a man when he’s down. I guess history really does repeat itself.” And then he stumbles backwards as if I’ve physically hurt him before turning and charging away.

Confusion keeps me momentarily frozen before I start forward, calling out his name, “Hisashi! Wait!” But his pace turns into a jog and then a sprint, and he disappears behind the Offering Hall. I stop after only a few steps. “What the _hell_?” I manage, unable to hide the distress his reaction and words have caused me from my voice, and turn back to Ko.

Ko hasn't moved from the steps and his eyes are locked on where Hisashi’s form just passed from our sight. 

“What. The. Hell. Ko.” I repeat, stomping into his line of sight, temper mounting. “What the hell was that? Do you and Hisashi know each other already? Why didn't you tell me? Because that is not how normal people react on meeting a stranger for the first time. What the hell is going on??”

Ko finally turns his attention to me and grimaces before sighing, “My name’s not Ko. His name isn't Hisashi. And we aren't ‘normal people’.”

 

xxx

 

In the many weeks I have known Ko, I’ve never once felt angry towards him, but right now I’m getting pretty damn close. “That isn't funny,” I spit. 

My deal with Studio Ghibli; Hisashi’s PTSD; the threat of the Kaonashi Gang to Hisashi’s life, my life, and now Kos’ life; and now this unexpected riff between Hisashi and myself thanks to his mysterious acquaintance with Ko, and the latter thinks that making a joke about it is appropriate? Screw that. I’m under enough stress without having to put up with this lack of consideration. 

Ko can tell that I’m close to fuming, if the bob of his adams apple and the straightening of his shoulders is anything to go by, but he only continues to dig his hole deeper: “I never said it was. I’m being serious right now, Chihiro.” 

I shake my head with a dismissive scoff and a mumbled “unbelievable” before I make to turn and follow Hisashi. Maybe he’ll actually tell me what’s going on. 

I’m stopped, however, by a warm hand on my shoulder. “Chihiro, wait. Think it over — why would I lie to you?”

“I don’t know, Ko, that’s what I’m going to try and find out!” I try and shake him off, but he only turns me around, bringing his free hand up to my other shoulder in the process and holding me firmly, but gently, in place. 

“Seriously, Chihiro? Give me some credit here.” His voice sounds frustrated and a little offended. Deep down I have to admit that I know Ko would never be so thoughtless towards my emotions, never approach such a serious situation so flippantly, and I grumble unhappily in response.

I finally get myself to meet his gaze, though I do nothing to hide the unhappy frown I still sport. A frown which slowly fades away under the denial I feel at what I see in Ko’s eyes. There is the frustration and offense that I heard in his voice before, but past that is unabashed supplication; Ko is begging me with his eyes to believe him, a kind of muted desperation that seems to slap me upside the head, leaving me reeling. Because if Ko is telling the truth…

No. No, I refuse to believe him. And I am shaking my head, now, and backing away from him, as if putting physical distance between us can also keep the emerging conclusion far, far away. That Ko is not Ko. Hisashi is not Hisashi. That they both are…not…people?

Nope. I am not going there. That’s impossible. What _else_ could they possible be? Vampires?! This is not frigging Twilight. 

I finally wrench myself from Ko’s grasp and continue my backwards escape, dimly noting that my breathing is growing erratic, as are my thoughts. Ko, for his part, makes no move to follow me with anything other than his eyes which seem to be apologizing, knowing that he’s just thrown my mind into turmoil, that he has just admitted to a hurtful and cutting deception.

A few more backwards steps and then I am spinning and sprinting; not for the shrine, where Hisashi is no doubt brooding, but for the line of trees. I break through the border of Sugi and only increase my pace, the mounting sense of panic pressing close and provoking my fight-or-flight response. 

If only running could help me escape my own thoughts. 

I run for an unknown period of time before collapsing in a sweaty, gasping heap. I am not having a full-fledged panic attack, but I am pretty damn close. My thoughts are a mess as I try to process the confusion and shock but, more than those emotions, I am struggling with the sense of betrayal that is steadily growing within me. I realize that, though I find the implications unfathomable, due to my instinctual trust of Ko, I have already accepted his words as truth without even having made the conscious decision to do so. And that means that, despite said trust, despite the blossoming of a friendship of unknown depths between us, he has been lying to me this entire time. That Hisashi, who I have counted as business partner, lover and friend — as family — has been lying to me for _years_. 

My life as I know it is not only being tipped on it’s side; it’s being stepped on, thrown and ripped apart into jagged pieces, torn away from my control and proverbially set on fire. 

I sputter out a sob of a laugh as I continue gasping for breath, tears silently streaking down my face. It is this, this very feeling of treachery and abandonment, the fear of being lied to and hurt, which made Haku so valuable to my emotional growth as a child; to help me overcome my anxiety and psychosis and learn to connect to others, able to stand firm in my resolve. How ironic that the very character who helped me to overcome my fear is also responsible for bringing me to the only two relationships which have, finally and utterly, made that fear a reality. 

A long time passes in which I lie there feeling sorry for myself, occasionally breaking into sobs and curses, before falling back into gasping silence. Eventually I manage to cry myself out, and slowly drag myself up into a sitting position, wiping at my tearstained face with one last jittery sigh. Looking around, my eyebrows draw together as I finally take in my surroundings. 

I severely underestimated the breadth of what I initially thought was a simple copse of trees housing the shrine, evidently, because this growth is too dense, too dimly lit, too wild, to be nothing less than a rich forest. My brows lift from their furrow, raising high, as I also take notice of the dozens of small stone shrines that surround me; I’ve managed to spend the last who knows how long sobbing in the middle of an unusually crowded gathering of Hokora; I’ve never seen such a heavy clustering, let alone in the middle of a forest, and am instead used to the the normal one or two found on most roadsides. 

A small prickling of unease tickles at the back of my neck, but I try to ignore it, refocusing instead on the load of bricks Ko’s confession has just dropped on my head — or, rather, _Not_ -Ko, since evidently Ko isn't even his real name. 

I let out a derisive snort before settling against a tree and crossing my arms irritably. 

Well, this is just great. 

In the next moment, though, I am shooting to my feet, the sounds of rustling in the nearby foliage sending my pulse into a frenzied state. I find myself wondering if Tokyo has wolves. Lions? Tigers? Maybe bears? Oh my. Regardless, the sound is getting closer, and if the volume of those movements is anything to go by, whatever is making them is _big_.

“St-stay back!” I yelp, clearing my throat and trying again, hopefully sounding less tiny and eatable, “I said stay back! I know…origami!”

“The ancient art of paper folding?” a warm voice chuckles, and I collapse back to the ground in a rush of breath.

“You jerk. You almost gave me a heart-attack.”

“Okay, but origami?”

I shrug petulantly, “It worked in a movie.”

“Yeah, but this is Japan. We invented origami — this is literally the last place on earth that threat would work.”

“You know what, Whatever-Your-Name-Really-Is?” I glare up into green eyes, “Next time you discover two of your closest friends have been _lying_ to you the _entire_ time you've known them and then you think you're about to be eaten by a wild animal, _you_ can come up with a witty phrase to shout at the thing about to gobble you down which woN’T EVEN UNDERSTAND YOU ANYWAYS BECAUSE IT’S NOT EVEN HUMAN!” By the end of my mini tirade I am practically shrieking, teeth bared and hands fisted in my lap.

Not-Ko has the decency to look remorseful and sits without responding. 

“That’s what I thought,” I can’t help but sniff spitefully. 

The next while passes awkwardly as we sit in heavy silence. I pointedly ignore the man sitting across from me, choosing instead to study my fingernails.

“Nigihayami Kohakunushi,” he soon blurts out, and I look up from my obstinate grooming.

“Gesundheit.”

He takes a deep breath before repeating more slowly, “Nigihayami Kohakunushi. That, um, that’s my real name.”

I let out a cackle. “Are you serious? No wonder you shortened it to Ko — quite a mouthful. Quite the mantle of meaning, too.” I quirk an eyebrow at him, lacing my voice with as much sarcasm as I can, “Tell me, ‘God of the Swift Amber River’, were your parents that egotistical, or did they just hate you that much?”

“I wouldn't know, I never met them,” he replies with an even tone, and I wince.

“I’m sorry,” I concede quietly but say no more. The betrayal and hurt is still raw, though I scold myself silently — just because it turns out your friends are assholes, it doesn't mean you need to be one, too. 

“No, I deserve it,” he shrugs. I shake my head, about to open my mouth to protest and apologize again, but he cuts me off. “I don't blame you for being angry, Chihiro, and I’m the last person who deserves an apology from you. I’m actually surprised you are even speaking to me right now.”

I huff out a breath, mulling over just how right he is. Why _am_ I talking to him, still? Anyone else and I would have cut ties with a ‘smell ya never’, buried the suffering that came with their treachery, and moved on with my life. So why am I giving this Swift Amber River God (okay, but _seriously_ that name) another chance? I blow a breath through pursed lips, lifting hair off of my forehead. Simple. Because he _isn’t_ anyone else. 

“I am far from okay, right now” I murmur. “And quite honestly, I don’t know when, or even if, things will ever go back to the way they were between us. But…I have to try. Your friendship…you…mean too much to me.” I duck my head before continuing in a whisper, “It makes your lies hurt that much more, but it also means that throwing what’s between us away is impossible. Same with Hisashi.”

He nods once, remorse seeping through the tightness in his eyes and around his mouth, but doesn't say anything. There isn't much he _can_ say at this point, except to explain why he’s been lying to me, and it’s obvious that I am not ready to hear the reasons why just yet. 

We sit in silence, albeit one much more amicable than the previous, now that we’ve come to some kind of cooperative, if hesitant and somewhat pained, understanding.

“What do I even call you, now?” I ask into the quiet, my voice terribly soft. ‘ _Who are you?_ ’ my words silently cry, and I see him flinch.

“Ha-,” he pauses, and then shakes his head, “Please, just continue calling me Ko. Until everything is explained.” He looks to me, and I see the question in his eyes.

“Give me the day,” I bite my lip. “Tonight. You two can explain everything tonight. I just…I need some time.” My words echo Hisashi’s these past few days, when I pressured him to talk to me — the need to remain ignorant for a little bit longer, to pretend that the world isn't falling down around your shoulders; just a little more time until the truth is revealed and I am forced to reassess everything I know. 

_We aren't exactly normal people. Not even close._

Just a little more time.

 

xxx

 

Ko seems to recognize that I am close to my breaking point, and he doesn't press the issue. Nodding once, he reaches out tentatively, ever so gently cupping my cheek in his palm.

I realize that my breathing had grown erratic once again amidst my broken pleas, and tiredly lean into his touch, my eyes shuttering closed as I force slow, measured breaths.

"When you're ready, Chihiro," the words are murmured against my temple, and my eyes squeeze even more tightly shut. A second later and the contact is gone; his hand whispers across my jaw before the sound of his softly treading steps returning back to the shrine also fade away.

I drag my eyes open and grit my teeth against the whirling of emotions. Just when I had calmed myself (re: "calmed"), the anger and hurt is swirling back to the surface. Ko's intimate touches only add to the confusion and, without a thought, I am on my knees, fisting my hands and lashing out.

My hands strike the ground, over and over, as a whimpering growl is torn from my throat. Small rocks and twigs tear at my knuckles, and soon little flecks of blood are splattering across the ground and through the air as my punches grow more frenzied, but I do not stop. I have never had such a violent outburst before, never found an outlet in anger, but as my knuckles split against the hard ground, the burn and throb that is slowly working it's way into my wrists and up my arms is grounding me firmly in the here and now, pushing my errant thoughts and emotions to the background as I am forced to focus only on managing this self-inflicted pain.

My growl begins turning into words: "I am enough. I. Am. Enough."

The pain is crystalizing into one single thought, one single truth that I have been clutching to these past months, one that I know I can always rely on: No matter what is revealed to me tonight, I know that I am my own person; I have worth and purpose of my own making, and even if these two men manage to destroy everything around me that I thought I knew as being real and important, they will never do the same to me myself. I will always be Ogino Chihiro, a scared girl who became a scared woman, but one who learned that fear only makes courage possible, that the darkest moments make the brightest moments shine all the brighter, and that I am a goddamn blaze which no one and no thing will ever put out without my permission.

"I am enough, gods help me, I am enough."

It is an affirmation, a prayer, a hope and a doubt, and, above all, an unequivocal truth - I will make it one.

I finally come back to myself and sink back on my knees, shoulders slumped, and take in the damage. My hands lay in my lap, shredded and dripping; already, a large stain is spreading across my thighs where they rest.

I wince. Probably not my smartest move, the whole lashing out irrationally thing, but despite the agony already settling into the beaten appendages, I feel better. Cleaner, somehow, now that I have physically released the negativity that was clouding my mind. Suddenly Hisashi's outbursts make a bit more sense.

My attention is drawn up from my battered hands as a sharp wind suddenly whips through the small clearing, strong enough to actually push my unsteady body over as it continues to rush around me, dirt and leaves getting into my eyes and mouth. I shriek once, torn between bewilderment and a strange kind of humor at the absurdity of this sudden whirlwind. I wouldn't be surprised if it turns into a tornado and sweeps me off to Oz, at this point. As if to punctuate my thoughts, the wind increases.

Letting out another shriek which morphs into a small bark of a laugh, I army crawl the two feet between me and the closest cluster of Hokora, huddling down in the hopes of finding some shelter from the sudden gale. With another wince, I note that there are little spots dotting the small sacred objects and which are, in fact, flecks of my blood, splattered there from the force of my punching fit. Goosebumps break out across my arms as the wind continues to circulate the clearing, and I force away the superstitious thoughts trying to form; My blood on the Hokora has nothing to do with the tiny storm centered above my head.

The wind is strange, though, nothing like I have ever seen as it continues to center on the clearing- looking to the side, back into the forest, I note with unease that the trees there remain still and untouched. I try to lift myself, deciding that I'd like to return to the main shrine sooner rather than later but, as I straighten my arms beneath me, the wind renews the force of its assault, slamming me down and knocking the breath from my lungs.

Nothing about this is funny anymore.

I turn my head to the side, resolved to crawl my way out of here, but I am penned in by the Hokora; my sources of shelter have become my trap.

Cursing, I decide that my best course of action is going to be rather unpleasant, and I slowly drag myself back into the center of the clearing from where I will hopefully be able to spot an open space to flee through. The wind continues to buffet me, and my eyes strain against the dirt and plant detritus which seek to blind me. After a few feet, I simply close my eyes, tears torn by the wind leaking down my cheeks. I continue my slow and rather miserable path forward, trying to mentally judge whether I've made it to the center yet - I don't want to risk having an eye stabbed out by an errant twig or branch by risking a peek.

Just when I decide that I must have breached the distance by now, the wind...stops. Holding my breath and not daring to believe it, I remain frozen on the ground for a moment before slowly prying my eyes open. My doubts emerge as not unfounded: while true that the wind is no longer attacking me personally, the clearing is still under assault. Standing, my brow furrows harshly, mouth opening wide, as I spin in a small circle. All around me the wind twists and turns, whipping up more and more leaves and dirt so that the line of trees is nearly obscured - only the small area where I stand is clear. I have found the eye of the storm.

Now that I am safe, another small snort escapes me with the absurdity of it all. Why am I even surprised anymore? But though I am now safe, I am also very much stuck. I lift my hands to my hips and purse my lips. Huh.

Though - I'm impressed with myself for handling this so well, I must admit. It's not often a freak whirlwind traps you in the middle of a creepy forest, after all.

Glancing around, my eyes seek out a clear path, but all they can pick out is the mass of debris creating a wall around me. The visual obstruction seems to also extend, oddly, to sound, I only just now realize: this entire time, though I felt the wind and was blinded by it, rather than its blowing and whistling sound, I have been met with muffled silence. This realization, more than any other, has my rather blasé attitude melting away bit by bit.

I reach a hand forward as true worry sets in, almost as if testing the temperature of a pool, but quickly snatch it back, sporting a new gash across my palm. Lovely. I begin calling out rather half heartedly, but then with more fervor: "Ko! Hisashi! Help me! Hello?! I'm stuck! Aunty Em? Anybody?" The continued silence that I am met with comes as no real surprise. With no other option left to me, I blow out a messy breath and settle in a disgruntled heap, determined to wait things out, suppressing my unease.

Nearly 45 minutes later and things are the same. I curse Ko for being so damn respectful and not coming to bother me some more, though I'm not sure how exactly he would help get me out of this mess. Still, him and Hisashi? Jerks.

The worry and fear have faded as I've sat bored, drawing stick figures in the dirt around me, and instead turned into a kind of morbid fascination. I have no idea what this meteorological event is or why it's happening or how it's even possible, and if I weren't already overwhelmed with other problems, I know I would be having a panic attack right now. I thought I was impressed by myself and with how well I was handling things, but maybe I should be a little concerned - I'm handling this, perhaps, a little too well. The more I think on it, the more I realize that, actually, other than that fascination, another emotion is growing, too. But it's not caution or distress, as any normal, sane person would react with - no, it's annoyance.

This damn wind is really starting to annoy me.

I stand up and begin pacing my small space, annoyance morphing into aggravation. Stupid Ko and Hisashi - if it wasn't for them, I wouldn't be in this mess in the first place! It's easy to find a scapegoat for this weather development, but the reminder of our relationship issues only adds anger to the aggravation.

Letting out a muffled shout, I stomp my foot and yell at nobody in particular, " ENOUGH!". Instantly the wind cuts out, and all around me the various bits of matter plummet to the earth with soft thuds. _What the hell?_ I repeat the sentiment out loud, "What the _hell_?"

Not willing to stick around in case Twister Creepy decides to make another appearance, I promptly pivot on my heel and sprint for the direction I came from. As I break through the line of Hokora, one last, soft breeze curls around my torso, lingering on the back of my neck like an exhalation of breath. I stumble, catching myself on one of the shrines, the gash on my palm leaving a vivid streak across its roof. I grimace at my own clumsiness and the goosebumps spreading across my body before quickly righting myself with a muttered "Gods, help me", and beat a quick retreat through the foliage.

The branches around me shudder once as a single gust of wind whispers through them audibly. The noise catches me off guard, it's the first time I've actually heard a gust this whole time, and propels me forward more quickly. I refuse to even consider that the whisper sounded a lot like my name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ch. was written in parts, which is why there’re 3 seemingly pointless breaks mid plot HA hpfly it's not too awkward...
> 
> Yes, the origami threat’s a shameless Jimmy Neutron quote, you're welcome.
> 
> Sugi are flippin awesome trees indigenous to Japan. Different names are used according the age of the tree. One, called Jōmon Sugi, is est to be as old as 7k yrs! DAMN! These trees look pretty rad&can vary greatly in appearance, depending on age.
> 
> The little shrines also appear in Spirited Away, by the tunnel leading to the "amusement park", though to see them in such dense grouping is not at all common,&for those in the know, subtly acknowledges that the characters are in a strange place&,as shrines that are supposed to house spirits, also indicates that it is an area of high spiritual activity — both in the film AND my fic…. heh make of that what you will...
> 
> I also wanted to just copy in part of a conversation I had with one dear reader regarding Chihiro's reaction to finding out Ko&Hisashi have been lying this whole time. The reader mentioned that, due to the, err, less than normal circumstances of their situations (1 way of putting it I guess ha), the boys are justified in their lies. From that, we could infer that Chihiro’s rather overreacting in her vehemence. And though there’s merit to this interpretation, there's much more to it. So here's my response to that sweety (who has been really poking my brain & forcing me to contemplate my choices - which I love, as it helps me reaffirm why I've made them/change them)
> 
> "With regards to Ko&Hisashi lying about who they are... while it makes sense to us, as readers, keeping in mind that there really was no "good" way to go about revealing the truth of their identities, Chihiro’s still very much in the dark. At this point, she’s still just trying to process the fact that her 2 close friends’ve lied to her – motive&context still don’t play a role in her processing [though we might be considering these things as readers, which influences our reactions differently]. That's why I focused so much of the cha [of the admittance to lying] on her emotions&sense of heartbreak vs the implications of said betrayal. It’s a very realistic&human reaction, in a knee-jerking way, that when faced with extreme emotional distress, we become so caught up on one thing, whether it makes sense to or not. Remember: Chihiro doesn’t have the same background info as we do, having watched the movie&drawn our own conclusions while reading,&despite the fact that she claims to believe Ko's words, that he&Hisashi are something beyond "normal ppl", it's 1 thing to vaguely accept a person's words, but it's another thing entirely to be confronted w/the details of a very bizarre truth. W/more info will come more understanding, in 1 way or another, don't worry.
> 
> As for Ko&Hisashi – we see Ko being very remorseful&pologetic b/c it’s in his nature to be noble. He knows he has caused Chihiro pain, &despite the fact that he might’ve been justified in keeping his identity a secret (bc, yeah, talk about awkward...), he loathes bringing any type of harm to Chihiro. Despite that, we still see moments of Ko's pride coming through, like when he becomes slightly offended that Chihiro doubts his admission/thinks that he's making fun of her, &he calls her out on it (if rather subtly/kindly). He doesn’t want to injure Chihiro, emotionally or on any other level, but he's not a pushover, &that’ll come through more clearly as the fic progresses.
> 
> As for Hisashi, we know him to be prideful, somewhat narcissistic&controlling…he has no regrets, not when it comes to becoming a part of Chihiro's life. As the next ch.s roll out&we see Hisashi's reaction to being outed, he’ll be noticeably less apologetic than Ko was/is, for many reasons. W/o giving too much away, I want to remind you that he has recreated himself since the happenings of Spirited Away, becoming a new person, &that he has always approached Chihiro w/the mindset that she deserves to be taken care of&shielded from harm. Ko, on the other hand, is much more invested in allowing Chihiro to operate under her own powers – that is not to say that Hisashi finds her any less capable than Ko does, just that they approach her very differently, based on their own personalities. As such, Hisashi will see the lie as having been necessary to Chihiro's protection, whereas Ko might agree, but ultimately decided that telling her the truth&allowing her full awareness is the best for her.
> 
> I hope this makes sense but, if not, things will become more clear as the fic progresses"
> 
> I hope this helps! Thanks again so much!
> 
> xo
> 
> x


	9. Surprise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry the end notes for the last chapter were half gibberish -- they went over the character limit and I had to revert to my highschool days and when I thought I was edgy and 2 kool 4 skool lmao
> 
> I really hope you are enjoying and will kudo/comment/come follow me on tumblr @ kalipeda ! :)

I emerge onto the shrine's immediate grounds in a flat out sprint and shouting -- or at least trying to, as my lungs refuse to function properly. I am not an athlete. "Ko! Hisashi! I've changed my mind, I want to know _now_! I've had enough of this crazy bullshit!"   
   
Hisashi rounds a corner of the building and approaches me with a frown, "Hiro, what's with all the yelling? What are you talking about?"  
   
I gesture helplessly behind me, opening my mouth to try and formulate an explanation, but his eyes zero in on my injuries.    
   
"What the hell happened to your hands??" A vein pulses in his temple as he strides forward and snatches said hurting hands into his own, gently turning them over to inspect the damage. "I can't leave you alone for 20 minutes," he tuts, a tone of deep concern laced through the patronizing words.   
   
I frown but don't respond, the 'it wasn't my fault' itching to escape being a complete lie, after all. It was _my_ meltdown — even if I still choose to blame Dumb and Dumber as having started this whole mess.  I snicker softly at the nicknames.   
   
A dark current enters his voice, "I don't see what's so funny about you being hurt."  
   
"No, no, it's not --" I sigh, "let me go clean up."  
   
Instead of letting me go, he keeps my hands clasped in his own and begins lightly tugging me towards the well. I roll my eyes but follow docilely enough. Once there, he makes me hold out my hands over the drains while he pours the freezing water from his own cupped hands over them, delicately picking out the bits of dirt and pebbles ingrained in my knuckles before turning my one hand over to examine the gash on its palm.   
   
He glares up at me, though his ministrations remain incredibly gentle, "This one looks even less of an accident than the others."  
   
Biting my lip I silently agree that it looks like I took a knife to my own palm, or something as equally as gruesome. "It was an accident," I murmur, feeling unreasonably guilty. His concern feels undeserved, seeing as how I did these things to myself (the tripping part counts less, granted). But, no -- I remind myself: he and Ko are the ultimate catalysts behind my general misery. There's nothing to be guilty about.   
   
So why do I still feel so bad?  
   
Aside from the pain throbbing through my abused digits.   
   
"What happened?" Ko approaches us, and I jump as I only just notice his presence.   
   
"Just Chihiro's usual penchant for not being able to watch over herself," Hisashi growls and I decide that my hands are cleaned up enough and snatch them back.   
   
"Actually, this time it wasn't completely my fault," I spit.   
   
"So you didn't get in a punching match with a tree?" Hisashi quirks a brow at me.  
   
I clear my throat and try to muster my diginity, "Well, um, actually it was the ground --"  
   
"HA!"   
   
"-- but that's not the point!" I hurry over his derisive snort. "Something...weird happened. I mean, weird like everything else that's been happening?" It comes out a nervous question.   
   
"Why don't you explain from the beginning," Ko soothes, producing a roll of bandages from somewhere and motioning for me to let him wrap my hands while I talk.   
   
Giving him a quick once over and wondering if I missed the first aid kit he seemingly managed to hide on his person somewhere (It it a fanny-pack? I hope it’s a fanny-pack), I briefly gloss over the events in the woods, sticking to the basics: I freaked out, punched some shit, blood flew, wind blew, I was trapped and then I wasn't. And then I bled a little bit more, but this time by accident.   
   
"What do you mean 'it kinda sorta just stopped?'" Hisashi is incredulous.   
   
"Like I said -- it just, ya know, stopped." I respond defensively, folding my arms.   
   
"What--??"  
   
"Hisashi," Ko cuts him a look, and the taller man closes his mouth with a grumble. I instantly become suspicious. Since when have these two been buddy-buddy?   
   
"Chihiro," Ko turns back to me. "Did anything happen before the wind stopped? Was there a flash of light, did you hear anything?"   
   
"Well, no, but..." I trail off, my lip working between my teeth. Saying it out-loud to someone will make it real.    
   
"Hiro," Hisashi prods, eyeing me pointedly. He knows my tells, so I quickly spit my lip out -- something I nibble when feeling doubtful or holding back -- feigning innocence.   
   
"Yes?" I blink and smile. He only continues to stare and I inflate my cheeks with air which I let out noisily. "It sounds so stupid," I scuff my foot along the ground.   
   
"Go ahead, Chihiro, I'm sure it isn't," Ko smiles kindly. Hisashi only snorts again, giving me a wily grin which I'm not sure how to interpret.   
   
"Um, so, I found the center of the whirlwind figuring I’d see a way out, but I couldn't, and I didn't know what to do so I, uh, yelled at it. And I think it...listened?" The level of doubt in my own statements, the fact that I am phrasing them as questions, has me cringing at my own lack of conviction. I hate feeling weak like this. But I also don't want my suspicions to be true, not even in the slightest.   
   
"It...listened?"   
   
"What did you yell?"  
   
I look between Hisashi and Ko respectively and then shrug yet again, "I told it 'enough'."  
   
"And it stopped? Just like that?"  
   
"That's what I said, isn't it? But, Hisashi, just because it stopped when I said that, doesn't mean the two are related, right? I mean, correlation does not mean causation or whatever, right? Okay, yes I managed to accidentally bleed on the Hokora--"  
   
"THAT'S what you meant by 'got blood on stuff'??!!"  
   
"--but that's just silly, right?? I mean, even when I sliced my palm on one by accident. That kind of stuff, it just isn't, well, it just isn't _real_. Right?" I'm nearly pleading, expecting one of his usual no-nonsense answers. Instead, he reaches up to rub the back of his neck while breathing a curse.    
   
"This is your fault!" he turns on Ko.   
   
"Calm down, Ashi, it might not be what it sounds like," Ko responds tersly, gaze fixed on the forest behind us. _Ashi? What the hell, they have nicknames now?_  
   
"Oh? And what else could it possibly be if not a blood contract?"   
   
"A blood contract has to be consensual, you know that!"   
   
"Oh and the spirits are just such good little rule followers, now, are they?"  
   
"Wha-what?" My voice, small and fearful, freezes them mid-argument. They spin towards me, faces stricken as they seem to suddenly realize the information they've just divulged. "B-blood contract? _Spirits?_ Is that what -? Are _you_ -?” I'm feeling nauseous. "So, not vampires, then?" I laugh weakly, before everything starts to go fuzzy. "I think, yeah, I think I'm passing out," I smile brightly, and then everything goes dark. 

 

xxx

 

Voices, whispered somewhere above me.   
   
"Damn it, Ashi, you had to go and mention blood contracts."   
   
"You didn't exactly object when you started bickering about their details."  
   
"No," a sigh, "no, I didn't. Damn it."  
   
"Well shoot there, sport, cursing twice in as many sentences? Do I need to call the police?"  
   
"Shut up, we have more important issues at hand than my use of language."  
   
Softly, "I know. I just -- this is going to change everything." A growl, "You have no idea what I've been through, what I've done, to get here. And now? It's all been for nothing."  
   
"This isn't about you," it's said kindly, with a strange level of sympathy. "But I'm sorry."  
   
A strangled laugh, "Always the gentleman, huh? I wish I could hate you for all of this, but..."  
   
"It was bound to happen eventually."  
   
"Yeah." A heavy pause, loaded with emotions I can't  begin to comprehend, "I had just hoped, before then..."  
   
"I know. I know."  
   
The voices fade as I fall back into darkness. 

 

xxx

 

When I finally and fully come back to consciousness, the sun is setting in a mess of inky purples and acid pinks. I lay a moment taking in the awe inspiring sight before sitting up with a moan; one of the guys moved me onto the porch of the main shrine, and I stand up, glad to find that my legs aren't shaky. A twinge of embarrassment zings through my chest (I passed out, wow, I belong in a Jane Austin novel), but then I remember _why_ I passed out, and it's all I can do to hold back the resurgence of nausea.   
   
In all the confusion, I must have just misunderstood what they were saying, right?  
   
I listen for a moment and catch the faint strain of voices, and follow them back towards the woods. Ko and Hisashi stand at the forests edge, exactly where I emerged hours ago, exchanging words too low for me to make out clearly. A branch snaps under one of my feet at my approach, and they turn in tandem with similar looks of relief on their faces. I nod at them and join them at the tree-line.   
   
"Soo..." I begin, but then realize I have no idea how to actually start this conversation. "Um, that was...something else."   
   
"Yeah," Hisashi smiles without humor.   
   
"Something else the same way that you two are...something else?" I continue hesitantly.   
   
"Yes, Chihiro, much the same way," Ko's words come out soothingly and he watches me like I'm a horse about to spook and bolt.   
   
I swallow thickly and turn, putting my back to the woods so that I can face them both. "Define 'something else', please." My voice is strained and i swallow again.   
   
The two look at each other, some message being communicated silently between their gazes and a spark of anger blooms at that; as irrational a concept as it may be, their sudden cooperation makes it feel like they've teamed up against me, and paired with the knowledge that I've been kept in the dark this whole time... I really feel like punching something again.   
   
"Now!" I snap, hands clenching at my sides, and a gust of wind seems to punctuate the words, catching them in the face and causing them to blink as my hair swirls calmly around my head.   
   
Hisashi's eyes widen and Ko holds his hands out placatingly, "Okay! We'll explain -- everything. We won't hold back. But, uh, let's go inside first, okay?"   
   
"Yeah, I think that sounds best," Hisashi agrees.   
   
I feel the frown growing on my face, "I really don't like you two being friendly with each other."   
   
Hisashi turns to me exasperatedly, "So, would you rather we be at each other's throats the whole time instead? Want us to be throwing punches in between answering questions?"   
   
I sniff once before striding off back towards the shrine, throwing a "Maybe" over my shoulder as I go, not waiting to see if they follow. Ko just shakes his head.  
   
I elect to settle back on the mat and blanket I woke up on a few minutes ago, and hope that Dumb and Dumber are very uncomfortable as they lower themselves onto the plain wooden porch.   
   
"The definition?" I prompt, once everyone is seated.   
   
"This might be easier to swallow if put into context a bit better."  
   
"I'm being told that there are things besides humans which exist and that you are one of them, Ko, context hardly matters at this point."  
   
He considers before answering slowly, ”I suppose that, _for now_ ,” he stipulates, “that's fair enough."  
   
"No, not “fair enough”," Hisashi interrupts. "Look, we withheld information from you and you're pissed, I get it, but you don't know what our lives were before, you don't know what we've had to endure to get here, and you don't get to judge us for wanting a modicum of normalcy. You don't get to judge us without hearing the how's and why’s. You don’t the end of the story without hearing the beginning and the middle first.”   
   
"You're right -- I don't know what you've had to live through. Because I guess your whole life story was a lie, right? About the gang and all those tears you shed… If you’re not human, it was all just an act." I spit.   
   
"No, it wasn't. It might not have been the entire truth, but none of that was made up."  
   
"That doesn't even make sense!" I throw up my arms, "How can you be "not human" and yet have lived a human life?"   
   
"That's where context helps," Ko looks at me kindly but pointedly.   
   
"Fine, then context me," I grumble.   
   
Ko nods and then begins, "So, yes, humans are not alone on this world. There is, in fact, another plane of existence that lies parallel to yours: the Spirit World." I let in a sharp intake of breath but don't interrupt and he continues, "The Spirit World is both separate and connected to the human world. It's like looking through a waterfall -- you can see what is on the other side, though not fully, and what you can make out will appear distorted. Very few can look through the veil separating the worlds and fewer still can pass through -- from either side -- unless given express permission. When someone does pass through, they must create a contract of some form or other to keep them grounded on the new plain, otherwise they will fade away. There is much power in such a contract, and it can take many different forms; Hisashi's contract is much different from mine."  
   
"So...you two are, what, spirits on holiday in the human world?" I sound incredulous.   
   
"If banishment is your idea of a vacation." Hisashi mutters.   
   
"What?" The vitriol in his words has startled me.   
   
"Like I said, I wasn't lying when I told you the story of my family. I just failed to mention that we didn't always exist here. My grandfather was a great river spirit," here he glances at Ko who nods as if in encouragement, "Ko mentioned the way in which the spirit world and human world are connected through a veil that distorts, much like looking through a waterfall, and one such connection is in the manifestations of spirits. On our plain, the majority of us are beings who can take a humanoid shape and interact as normally as you and I are now. At the same time, most of them are bound to objects of the natural world on the human plain, and this manifestation, this avatar, impacts their existence in the Spirit World. Their avatar in the human world is not conscious and only rarely can be inhabited, unless the spirit is incredibly powerful, but it is still intimately connected to their existence in the Spirit World. And if no contract is created on passing over, they fade away completely into this natural avatar. Does that make sense?"  
   
I'm too busy trying to understand his explanation to decide whether I want to believe or not. "I guess."  
   
"Right, well, my grandfather was a powerful river spirit, but his river avatar in this world was greatly polluted and sullied. He grew sick and weak and could no longer take his true shape in the Spirit World as a result. My family was, in turn, negatively effected, and that's when my father took it upon himself to “change our fortunes”… The Spirit World is ruled by many laws and codes, but they are surprisingly easy to circumvent. To do so and get caught means banishment, however, and the fear of banishment as well as the deeply ingrained taboo of breaking the moral codes, keeps peace and order. Usually. My father decided the risk was worth it. After raising my clan through highly questionable means, he sent me to assist on a job to destroy the business of a main rival, but things didn't exactly go according to plan."  
   
"The girl?" I ask, remembering his story on the hotel balcony.   
   
Ko looks surprised but Hisashi only smiles sadly, "Yes. The girl." He is quiet a moment, "My partner and I failed in the job, but as I was not undercover and my public failure was decidedly more fantastic, in so doing I brought the attention of the greater ruling deities down on my clan. I had a brief moment of reprieve where I lived with the kind old lady I told you about while we were on trial and then -- nothing. My entire family, including my grandfather who had his health recovered to him during this time, were banished to the human world and forced into a contract which rescinded our powers and trapped us on this side to die normal human deaths.” He pauses, “You have to understand, spirits are as close to eternal as you can get. And because of me, my entire family was sentenced to a tiny existence with a rapidly approaching death. We were reincarnated here as a normal human family; I emerged on this side of the veil as a child, with the full memory of a thousands year spirit and all that had happened. Normally, passing through the veil results in memory loss for all but the strongest of spirits, but part of our punishment was that we would have to remember all we had lost and the death we had to -- have to -- look forward to. It’s own kind of torture. What the deities didn't anticipate was my father's refusal to stay banished." He huffs a frustrated sigh and cards his hands through his hair.   
   
"So the Kaonashi gang is made up of banished spirits who think it's your fault they were exiled?"   
   
"It _was_ my fault!" He nearly yells, and I can hear the guilt and hurt hiding behind those words. I wince sympathetically, trying to understand the paradox of his emotions; he feels guilt for the same people he hates, the ones who nearly destroyed him before and who are trying to do so yet again.  He regains his composure, "Explains why they're looking for me, at least.”  
   
"So then, is your father also behind that weird windstorm before? And why are they after _me_?” Panic bubbles in my gut.   
   
"No, no, it wasn't the Kaonashi Gang that caused the windstorm," Ko reassures me quickly.   
   
"Then who? Or...what? And you still didn't answer why they're after me, too. How that guy on the bus knew my name."   
   
"You're turn, Ko." Hisashi flops back tiredly. "I've already given my life story. Twice."  
   
Ko looks at me silently a moment, oddly twitchy. He steeples his hands in front of him before changing his mind and rubbing them on his knees. Hisashi smirks at his awkwardness.   
   
Through all this, I can't help but feel as if my consciousness has ascended to some other level in which everything from the Loch Ness Monster to aliens suddenly seems plausible. I'm not sure how to react to all of this information. Shock? Horror? Laugh it off as a joke or prank? I want to, I really want to, but looking at Ko fumble, so nervous and earnest, the only reaction I sense seeping to the surface is dread.   
   
"Okay, um, regarding the wind...storm. Remember how Hisashi mentioned that spirits need to make contracts to survive once they pass to a new plain?"  
   
If my eyes are as wide as they feel, they might pop out of my head.   
   
"The thing about shrines are that spirits who want to avoid attention also tend to avoid them, making them safe places if you’re like us, trying to hid from the Kaonashi gang as it tries to operate under the radar. But that's because these shrines often serve as a sort of station, marking an entry point, a bridge, between worlds."  
   
"What does that mean for me?" I wedge my shaking hands under my thighs.   
   
"We think you may have inadvertently sealed a contract with a spirit recently crossed into the human world." 

What.  
   
"But, but I didn't sign anything or agree to anything or…anything!”  
   
"It would've been a blood contract." Hisashi explains stiffly, gazing at my palm, hidden under my leg. 

WHAT.  
   
"A-again," I clear my throat, "what does that, um, what would that mean for me?"  
   
Ko purses his lips, "There's a lot more power in a blood contract. They are...unpredictable in that one never knows how the crossed spirit will manifest, but it takes an incredibly powerful one to seal such a contract to begin with...that plus the fact that a blood contract is, in essence, a binding contract means that any number of possibilities exist.”

WHAAATT.  
   
"Binding?"  
   
Ko falters, looking upset.   
   
"You're connected now, you and this spirit," Hisashi answers for him, voice soft. "It's part of why a blood contract is so powerful. Through it, your, well for lack of a better word, your souls are connected. Your essence now sustains the spirit's, and because you are a native of this world, it lends a greater potency to the spirit while it’s in this world than a normal contract would." He pauses and scratches an ear, "How it will effect you is still somewhat up in the air, but I think we've already seen the connection playing out through the spirits avatar.”  
   
"Huh?"  
   
"It's obviously some kind of wind spirit, and since you are now tied to it…” he trails off, blowing air past his lips instead as if to demonstrate.  
   
"Wait, are you implying that the windstorm...I was responsible for that??"  
   
"No, not completely," Ko is back to fielding my questions.   
   
"But at least partially, then. Is that what you're saying?"  
   
"Most likely."  
   
I let out a cackle verging on hysterical. "So, let me get this straight. The Spirit World, something relegated only to myth and lore, something I've made a career writing about as _fiction_ , is actually real? Not only real, but also active. You," I flop a hand, "are the ex-power-hungry, mafia spirit grandson of a river god; I," a haphazard wave taking in my general being, "am now quasi soul-mates with some mystery wind spirit with questionable morals and intent but - hey! At least he's mad powerful, now that he's juicing my essence like a vampire (so at least that theory partially came true), and in the meanwhile, a bunch of lost-boy, gang-banger spirits with terrible attitudes and blood on their hands are out to get the grandson,” another wave “,and me — which by the way you still haven't explained how I'm involved. So then what are you?" I turn to Ko, voice high, "A radish? A frog? A-a, I dunno, a-"  
   
"Dragon."  
   
"Excuse me?"  
   
"Well, technically I'm a river, but my river avatar was filled and a bunch of apartments were developed on it. So I’m more like a stream, now, I guess.”  
   
"Okay but, uh, you said dragon. But your manifestation is related to the human world and there's no such things. You sure you're not a unicorn, then?" I turn to Hisashi who can't help but crack a small smile.   
   
"Only in my dreams, Hiro," he murmurs.   
   
"There were, once," Ko plows over us. "Before the flood."  
   
"Like...Noah's flood?" I shake my head with a breathy laugh, "No, I don't believe that."  
   
"So you're willing to believe that spirits exist and you're bonded to one, but not that dragons once existed?" Ko arches a brow at me, and Hisashi mimics him, annoyingly enough.   
   
"I, I never said I actually _believed_ all this!" I sputter.   
   
"But you haven't denied it, either. And there's a reason for that. The same reason why the Kaonashi gang is after you."  
   
"Finally." I mutter, impatient to finally hear their explanation.   
   
"This isn't your first interaction with the Spirit World, Chihiro." Ko moves closer to me, gently pulling one of my hands free and clasping it in his own. "This isn't even your first time being involved in a contract."  
   
"What are you talking about?" I am scared now, more scared than when Hisashi was beating up that guy on the bus, than when I moved out of my parents home, than when I nearly drowned as a child. Though the feeling of helplessness I remember from that most distant memory, of being swept away by an incomprehensible force, is similar.   
   
"When you were a little girl, you came through a gate. I still don't know how you managed to do so, you were so small, so terrified. But you were stubborn, and when your parents ate themselves into a contract, you fought for your own so that you might save them. You signed a contract at a bathhouse, you made friends and saved the lives of many, including your parents, before returning home."  
   
"That-that, no, that never happened. I would remember."  
   
"You wouldn't. You are a simple human, and only powerful spirits can cross with their memories intact. But you also didn't forget, not completely. You brought a spark of magic back with you, and it preserved your experiences in your mind, even if as something other than memories: imaginary friends, imagined adventures... Chihiro, they're all real."  
   
I'm shaking my head, "That's not funny, Ko. My books--? That's not -- no. That's not funny."  
   
"We've had a very similar conversation before, but I'll humor you: does it look like I'm trying to be funny? What point would there possibly be in making all of this up?"   
   
"I don't know," I tear my hand free from his and quickly stand, "I don't know! I could believe all the other stuff, I don't know why but yes, I think you're telling the truth about the Spirit World. But my books? That I really knew those people? I can't. I can't!"  
   
Ko is standing now as well, crowding me against a railing, "And why not? What's so hard about making that leap? It actually makes _more_ sense if you acknowledge your books as more than fiction. It explains why you are taking all of this information in relative stride -- because deep down, you know it all already, you remember it."  
   
"N-no, Ko! No!" I am shivering, my teeth are chattering and tears are leaking down my face and I am so, so tired of of crying, of feeling weak and throwing up these walls of denial because this is all too much, I am being given so much information to process and he's right -- the shock I feel is a pretense, something I _know_ I should feel but don't, and that makes it even worse. I'm still hurt about being lied to, but the lies themselves are all too easy to accept -- except. Except for this one. This one I can't believe, because if I do, it might break me. "No, no, NO!" I am yelling, and around me leaves are crackling menacingly as they are picked up and tossed through a rising wind, but I refuse to even go there right now.   
   
"Why, Chihiro," Ko steps closer and forces my gaze to meet his own. Out of the corner of my eye I spot Hisashi still sitting on the ground, looking oddly nauseous but resigned at the same time.  
   
"Because, Ko, if my books are real -- if, if all of that is true?"  
   
"Then what? What's so bad about that? Why can't you believe it?" His voice is soft, a counterpoint to the yelling of my own, echoed by the whistling wind.   
   
"Because if they are true," I am breaking, my heart slowly cracking as I face this new and blindsiding hurt, "then, then my characters are real. Then _he_ is real!" My voice chokes off, "He's real, and he never -- he said, he said we would see each other again. He p-promised!" I am openly sobbing now,  "H-he lied to me! If my books are t-true, then wh-where is he, Ko? Where the hell is he? I n-needed him, s-so many times, I _needed_ him, and I, I was so alone and _scared_ and WHERE THE HELL IS HE?!" I slide back to the ground in a heap, crying the hardest I ever have in my life, sobs wracking my shoulders as pain lances through me, remembering all the times I wished, oh how I wished that Haku was real. The many times I whispered into the dark, pretending he was there listening as I struggled to continue on through the bouts of depression, feeling lost and misunderstood, desperate for a connection. The humiliation I faced as a child, ridiculed for clinging to the idea of him, the isolation I felt as an adult for continuing to feel this inexplicable pull to a figment of my imagination. I wished he was real, I wished he would help me, love me, but he never did. I almost drowned in my own darkness so many times needing him, just like as a child. I feel like I am drowning now. I thought Hisashi and Ko's withholding of information was a betrayal before, but it is nothing compared to this: the destruction of a promise, preserved since childhood, held all that time in the same innocent light, looked at with the same wonder and awe, the same purity, the same unadulterated love, as when it was made. Corrupted, now. Violated. "Where is he?" It is more of a keen than a whimper, as I rock on my knees, hands held to my chest.   
   
"Oh, Chihiro." Ko is falling to his own knees in front of me, and his voice is bleeding sorrow and remorse as he takes me in his arms. Over his shoulder, Hisashi jerks to his feet and struggles away against the force of the wind and whatever emotion is twisting his face. "He never left you. He, he never -- I never left you."   
   
I know Ko has never left me in the short time I've know him, but it's not the same thing. "This is different!"   
   
"Chihiro look at me," Ko urges, pulling back and grasping my face in his hands. His fingers brush against the back of my neck while his thumbs brush along my cheeks, trying but doing little to clean away the tide of saltwater. I squint through my wet, swollen eyes, breaths still stuttering, small broken noises escaping me every few seconds. "Chihiro," he pleads, and surprise manages to break through my own grief, bringing me better to attention. Why is _he_ crying? Ko smiles shakily before repeating his earlier request, a whisper, tentative but burgeoning with what sounds a lot like...hope. "Look at me. _Look_ at me. Haku never left you, Chihiro. He never left you." I take in his watery eyes confusedly, trying to make sense of his words. His eyes. Those eyes which first shocked me so severely those many months ago when we first met. That seemed so _familiar_.  
   
"What do you mean he never left? Then - then where is he?" My own voice is a whisper as his gaze tunnels into mine, as his eyes swallow me up and fill me with warmth like honey on a summer day, despite the pain surging beneath.   
   
"He's right here, Chihiro." His eyes don't break from mine as one hand lifts to gently stroke my hair from my clammy forehead.   
   
"What?" I do not have the air to make the sound to form the syllables, the word escaping me in a voiceless mouthing of letters.   
   
"He's right here, Chihiro, because he's me. I am him. It’s me, Haku."  
   
The wind explodes around us.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaawwwww shit, y'all! The REVEAL! I bet you all thought it would never come. I certainly did *cries*
> 
> I hope it wasn't too anti-climatic. I really struggled with striking a balance between giving the necessary background information to my interpretation of these events and giving some form of plot. Though little plot actually occurred, I suppose…lots of talking though ? Some of you were very sympathetic to Ko and Hisashi the last few chapters, of the mind that they deserve some slack from Chihiro, and I hope that I depicted them fairly enough (I explained last chapters end notes how Hisashi has basically zero remorse and finds it justified, and Ko finds it justified but is upset he hurt Chihiro. Hopefully that came through.) I also tried to depict the complexity of emotions ranging through Chihiro, her sympathy and anger and all these other contradicting emotions battling it out inside her. I tried to make her return to the spirit world (as it is) believable, and I hope that their conversation and reactions flowed well and didn't seem forced or stilted. I did have to kind of write some small rambles in order to plug in the information you, as readers, need to understand what the hell is going on, but I figure we all tend to ramble when faced with difficult situations, so maybe its okay haha
> 
> Also, Chihiro, being a stubborn little pip until the very end lol OPEN UP YOUR EYES AND SEEEE
> 
> oh, also, I will be working on a oneshot for Howl's Moving Castle per request sooo yeah! more info regarding that will appear on my tumblr, kalipeda, as it comes :)
> 
> Thank you again, I hope you enjoyed!!!
> 
> x


	10. Forgiveness is Hard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, Hi! Just a reminder that you can find me on tumblr at kalipeda, where my inbox is always open and I post other fun studio ghibli stuff/writer's stuff, as well as info on new chapters and sneak peaks! I also answer fanmail/post answers to questions there which can often be helpful to reading this fic/in general!
> 
> Thank you, again, and I hope you enjoy!
> 
> (of course more notes about the chapter itself at the end, as per usual heh heh)

The wind whips dangerously in stinging bites, snatching debris into the air before flinging it away, rattling through branches and slamming against the walls of the shrine. Ko ducks his head in an attempt to protect his eyes from the onslaught, but I myself am left untouched by the tempest, with only a soothing breeze lifting my hair in an angry halo.  
   
"How dare you," I seethe. "How _dare_ you." I roughly push him away from me, an extra burst of wind knocking him on his back as I stand in a fluid motion and stride away from the shelter of the shrine. "He is not a joke!" I am yelling, and the wind is screaming with me. Out in the open, I turn back towards the shrine where Ko has regained his footing and stands watching me, head determinedly held aloft, jaw clenching.   
   
"You don't believe me?"   
   
"How could I?" I hiss, moving my hand in a sharp cutting motion to the side. The wind answers the movement by slicing forward with enough force to flatten the overgrown grass in that direction until it meets the trees, which shake and rattle at the assault. "Haku is noble, he is kind and _honest_. You are a _liar_. You are not him!”  
   
"Your memory of Haku is that of a child's, Chihiro!" Ko is shouting, and it's the first time I've ever seen him loose his composure like this, but I ignore this realization, what its implications are. "You were still innocent and idealistic! How would you know what Haku was really like? How _could_ you? When even his role at that time was not what it seemed? You want to call me a liar when I am Ko? Fine. But then you must also call Haku a liar, because he was! _I_ was!”  
   
"Shut UP!" The wind tears by me, slamming into Ko, forcing him backwards until he is pressed up against the shrine wall.   
   
He grits his teeth and begins forcing his way forward again, straining against the punishing gale. Small cuts have opened on his cheeks and arms where bits of detritus have caught him, but the rational part of my mind that would normally be filled with horror and shame on seeing this is buried underneath something else: something primal, something that clouds my judgment and only tells me to revel in this basic emotion, this fury.   
   
"You were a child who walked into the middle of a war she had no way of understanding!" He pushes on, but I only growl as the wind slings forward in another burst that has Ko sliding backwards, tendons standing out on his neck with the strain of remaining upright. "You were a child, and you were everything sweet and good this world had to offer. I was nothing more than a henchman, and not even a loyal one, but you made me feel less dirty, less broken. You saved me, Chihiro, but that doesn't change what I was! What I am! _Who_ I am!"   
   
As he speaks, his words seem to echo hollowly through my mind, rebounding off my mental walls back and forth until only a mess of sounds is left, filling my thoughts but losing all meaning. I bring my hands up to my ears as if the action can still the cacophony, "You are _lying_!” I cry, "I don't believe you!"   
   
"Don't or won't?" He counters, his efforts finally drawing him nearer. "The Haku of your books is real, but he's an incomplete memory, faded by magic and biased by a child’s impression. But he _is_ real. _I_ am real, Chihiro, and if you just let me explain, I promise it will all make sense."   
   
"I-I don't--" the noises in my head are building, building, and now I am shaking it back and forth, trying to rid it of these new revelations like a dog flinging off water. What had I said about being a blaze, not letting Hisashi and Ko's confessions affect me? Well, consider my blaze noticeably dampened. I try to swallow but my throat is dry and it is more a gag of distress. "I need to get out of here," I whisper, overcome. Inside, my fire is shrinking, shrinking...  
   
"Don't you dare, Chihiro." Ko is angry, and for once that anger is aimed at me. "Don't you run away from this, just because things have gotten hard."  
   
"Hard?" My laugh is edged with hysteria, "Things are not just _hard_ , Ko, they are absolutely and completely _wrecked_.”  
   
"Just let me explain, Chihiro. Try to understand." He has reached me where I stand in front of the shrine, and much like in the clearing before, we stand in the calm center of a whirling mass of wind.   
   
"I've _been_ trying, Ko!" I yell. "With every new truth you've dumped on me, no matter how reality-bending, I have accepted it as best as I am able, I have tried to give you the benefit of the doubt, but with each truth more and more of what I know is becoming a lie and I _can’t_ , I _can’t_ take this anymore!" My hands are shaking and I clutch them to my chest as my shoulders bow forward.   
   
"You are stronger than this, Chihiro, I know you are. Even as a child, you refused to give in to despair. Please just _listen_.”  
   
A single tear slides down my cheek and I close my eyes on a bitter smile. "I guess we've both changed, then." I open my eyes and the look of pure misery etched into his face is the final push, and my resolute fire collapses in on itself, embers spiraling upwards to fade into a barren night sky, ashes choking out any and all fight. Because despite _everything_ , I still care for this man, and his pain is as much my doing as his own. This -- this is my final undoing. "I'm sorry," I whisper before slowly turning and walking away.   
   
"Chihiro. Chihiro!" He tries to follow but the wind blows it's strongest yet and he flies backwards. "Chihiro, please! _Please_!”   
   
I ignore his pleading, even as it tears into me with vicious fingers from my own betrayal and regret. "Take me away," I whisper to the wind, to whatever spirit I have been unwillingly bonded to.   
   
Whatever primal urge had been fueling my wrath before resurges, singing through my blood, power sparking at my fingertips and melting my joints in pleasure-pain. The wind gathers in front of me, taking a rough form, the vague impression of height and width, a head and shoulders, as the details constantly shift and swirl. My mouth opens on a silent moan, a building of emotion and the sensations winging through my body as the spirit channels our connection. "Now," I bite out. The form lifts it's arms and I bow my head as they wrap around me, strangely solid and warm. A feeling of familiarity and comfort comes with the contact, but I know it is only as a result of the bond forced on me, and the violation and contradicting feelings it creates in me makes me feel sick to my stomach. But the spirit's existence is intimately linked to mine, now, and though I might loath it for what it's imposed on me, I know I am safe with it. So I lean into its consoling embrace as Ko's shouts grow more frenzied and desperate behind me, as they are joined by Hisashi's voice yelling threats and obscenities.   
   
"As you wish", a dry crackling voice whispers across my consciousness and down my spine. And then there is only silence, utter and deafening, and I sigh in broken relief.   
   
xxx

 

I open my eyes to blankness; shapeless, shadowless white in all directions that makes me feel as if I am suspended in midair while simultaneously falling, and the physical sensation is all too painful a mirror of my emotional state. I turn in a small circle, but the emptiness is all encompassing, as is the muffled quality pressing in on my ears. 

“Hello?” I call out timidly, my voice dropping out of the air like a lead balloon, barely traveling past my lips before the emptiness dampens and kills the sound. I swallow nervously and try again, a little louder, but am met with the same result. Despite that, a voice reaches through the pristine void.

“ _Chihiro_.” My name slithers forward in rustling echoes that build in ripples before fading away into the unknown edges of this space. 

I lick my lips. “Where am I?”

A sound like a contemplating breath, before the voice murmurs again, “Neither here nor there.”

My lips are parted as I taste the air, a strange smoky sweetness teasing my tongue. “Meaning what?”

“There is no one meaning, in between.”

“In between?”

“As you say.”

“Between what, exactly?”

Another breath, this one like a laugh. “The living and the dead.”

I clamp down on the panic that wants to raise its frenzied head at that statement, and try to stay rational. Only now do I realize how heavily I was being influenced by the spirit in my fight with Ko just before; removed from the situation and placed into this strangely full, empty place, I am coming back to myself. Shame gurgles uncomfortably under my ribs at the thought that I let this...thing...affect me, let it fan my anger, direct my thoughts onto irrational, antagonistic paths. Now, though I can feel the spirit around me, pervading this space, I no longer feel its cognizance pressing in and mingling with my own, and I try my best to fortify my mind against such another invasion. 

I force myself to block out the tempting whispers of power that wait for my reaction, wait for me to shake in terror, and instead try to think logically about this, one of the most illogical things to ever happen to me. 

“The living and the dead…could you, do you mean the human world and the spirit world?”

“No, my dear, I mean the spirit world and the human world.”

_What the hell is the difference?_ I think.

“The difference is simple, Ogino Chihiro: that while I am immortal, your body already deteriorates, so that while I am spirit, only I am truly living; every breath you breathe brings you closer to your death.”

“Can you read my mind?” I clench my shaking hands.

“I can read your face, which is well enough. And such a pretty face, too.”

I ignore what I am certain is not meant as an honest compliment and press forward in trying to assess my new situation. “Why did you bring me here?”

“Little bird, do you not recall? You asked for wings that you might take flight and I provided you with wind to raise them up.”

“No - well, yes - but why _here_?”

“The River and the Faceless are powerful in your world, yet those who hunt you in the human world would also hunt you in the spirit world. It is far easier to simply avoid both.”

The River and Faceless? Does it mean Ko and Hisashi? And those hunting us, Hisashi’s family? I shake my head and focus on the rest of the statement, “Couldn’t they just follow us?”

“They could, but we are in _this_ place, and they would enter in _that_ place, and as this place both _is_ and is _not_ , there is no true _here_ or _there_ — only one point at one time betwixt, and once had it is quickly lost.”

“Um…so…”

“No, little bird, they cannot find us here.”

Is that regret or relief I feel? “How come more spirits don’t utilize this place?” It was not mentioned when Ko and Hisashi were explaining the most important aspects of the Spirit World to me before, and looking around I see no one else in this place. Though that might have more to do with the spirit’s bizarre explanation just now than it does any type of underutilization.

“It is very hard to come by. Only our bond, connecting us firmly in both worlds, keeps us from tearing in half between one or the other.”

_Oh. Well, that’s lovely, isn't it?_ Though the spirit’s statement reminds me… “I never agreed to this bonding. I wish to undo it.”

“You would be swallowed by the Between —”

“After, then, once we’re out.”

“— and besides, the blood contract would not be valid, had you not agreed.”

I glare into the flat space, “I didn't even know what a blood contract was, how could I have agreed?”

“Your blood and will called to me, sang to me, and when I answered you spoke words of need, asked for aid, and I accepted your oblation.”

“That, that was an accident! A thoughtless prayer — a wish, if you will!”

“Fate is not fickle; wishes are eyelashes, dandelions and ladybugs. You called, I answered, a contract was struck, and now You and I are We.”

“Fine, whatever, so you claim that this contract was validly made. Well, now I would like to _validly_ break it!”

“A contract, whether forged or broken, requires consent from both We’s, and I-We will not part from You-We. The contract shall hold firm.”

I let out an angry growl and stomp my foot. This is not the time to be focusing on this particular issue, I know, especially in light of recent things, but it’s easy to distract myself from the rest by focusing on this instead. 

The whisper of a voice gains more substance, as if my anger fuels it, stroking across my cheeks, “Little bird, little bird,” it tsks and laughs and scolds. “What is it, my little bird?”

“My name is Chihiro, as you know, and I am not “yours”! And you are a fraud! You can claim that our contract is valid, but we both know I did not agree to it consciously!” I stomp again, anger rising.

The whisper is a croon that slides down my arms, tangles between my fingers and toes. “What’s done is done, my little bird. But I do so love your ferocity.”

“Ugh!” I shriek and begin to stomp away. At least I think I do.

A laugh, resonant, rolls across and through me, “Even if we were not Between, we are We and you cannot run away from Us, not as you did the River.”

I stop stomping immediately and let out a low growl, “I don't want to talk about him.”

“Oh, little bird,” a breeze along my neck, a flick across my throat, “even if we were not bonded — you are such a terrible liar.”

“Screw you!”

“Impossible, sadly. Our contract limits how I manifest, now, on both sides of the veil as well as Between. But there are other ways.” Like when the spirit whisked me away, I feel our connection grow taught, winding between and around us like a web of ribbon, a skein forged of light and blood, coiled tight. Suddenly, a vibration travels along the connection like a string being plucked, and as it reaches me my cheeks boil red on a gasp, my toes curl, and sensations of pain and pleasure alike ripple under my skin.

“St-stop it!” I choke out.

“You do not wish to be satisfied? Your hold on me is not as strong here, little bird, I do not have to comply so tell me why. It would do you good, I think.”

Through the subtle panic, I manage to feel insulted that this spirit has basically insinuated that I need to get laid. “You have violated my mind already, I will not have you violating my body!”

A pause, a feeling of confusion, I imagine a head cocking to the side, a brow furrowing. “But your body responds positively, you enjoy the sensation.”

“You’re an immortal spirit, you can’t be this stupid!”

Pressure on my mind, slight but enough to make me wince and regret disparaging its intelligence. “I merely do not understand why you would deny yourself pleasure freely given. It is not often that spirits are so generous.” 

I realize that though it is immortal, it _is_ a spirit, and its morals and conduct are much different from my own. “Because that’s not how I am, thats not _who_ I am,” I try to explain, breaths labored as I try to loosen the still taught bond, but am clueless how to go beyond my mere awareness of it and actually act on it. “Humans, humans are different.” I pause a moment, “Well, many of us are. Some are like you, they take pleasure as it comes, and that’s great for them. But others of us are more particular, we only wish to take pleasure from specific people, and we only wish to give it to those same people in turn.” Unbidden, my thoughts drift to images of green eyes and dark hair. “And regardless which group a person falls under, when they or their partner says no, they listen.” A small ping travels down the line at this, and though it makes me wince and my breath hitch, I can tell, oddly enough, that it is not purposely done, laced with curiosity rather than the heady clog of lust as before. “Mutual respect is key to _any_ successful relationship, whether that relationship last a lifetime or a single night,” I emphasize, trying to impress the importance of this basic truth through the bond.

“A relationship?”

“Yes.”

Another pause. “A relationship is much like our contract.”

“Um, I suppose, yes.”

“Then, if we are to be successful, we must respect each other’s wishes.”

I close my eyes in silent gratitude, “Yes, that’s exactly right.”

The bond loosens and I take in a shaky breath, but it quickly goes taught again, “ _I_ wish to remain bonded with you.”

Not wanting to push my luck, I nod rapidly, “Okay, yes okay, I won’t try and break the contract.”

“It would not break without me.”

“Then, fine,” I cast around, “I won’t mention breaking it anymore, either.”

The bond quickly and suddenly loosens all at once and I nearly stumble. “I feel that my wishes have been respected, little bird. And you?”

“I — kinda, yeah, I guess.” No, not really. But whatever, at this point. At least I’m not being held at sexual gun point.

“Excellent.” 

Like a switch being flipped, the dark and heady sensations that had been pressing on me lift and are replaced once again by the teasing, flickering whispers. 

“Tell me about your River, little bird.”

“I already said I didn't want to talk about him. Remember the whole ‘respect each other’s wishes thing’? Well, here’s another one of mine.” I start walking again, though it doesn't bring me anywhere. It’s just something to do.

“Alas, my sweet, this is one wish I cannot honor. You ran from him and I must know why, if I am to keep you safe.”

“He wouldn't hurt me.” I quickly respond, but it sounds more like a question which I seek reassurance of than a statement. 

“But he already has, has he not?” My hair tickles across my ears as another shift of air caresses the back of my head in an almost consoling manner. I can’t help but think that this spirit knows much more than it’s letting on.

As angry - no, as livid - as I am with Ko, as broken as I have been made by his admissions, and as much as I want to and _do_ call him a liar, I can’t stop the almost instinctual reaction I have to defend him. “Not on purpose. Never on purpose.”

“Good intentions are useless if they do not yield corresponding results, little bird, learn this well.”

I can only grumble in response. Everything about this is bizarre. Everything about this entire day has been bizarre. Hell, this week, even! I just want to go home and curl up with Rumi while making fun of bad movies. The thought of my friend has me holding back tears yet again. 

There is a shift in pressure around me, and it feels like an arm is being laid across my shoulders. “Tell me, dear one, how long do you wish to hide from the River?”

“I’m not— I’m not _hiding_!” I splutter indignantly. 

“Oh?” an expansion of sound, a pittering of patronizing waves.

“I’m just…removing myself from the situation until I can get a better grasp of things.”

A small tweak on our connection, just enough to make my shoulders tense; a warning. “Lying to yourself is only a disservice, little bird. You will only bring yourself more harm.”

“And why does it matter to you?” I mutter.

“That should be fairly obvious, pet. I am You, as you are Me. I cannot have You coming to ill ends, else We shall meet the same fate.”

“Gee, and here I thought you actually cared.”

“Is that not caring?”

I let out an exasperated breath. “For you? Yeah, I guess.” In a weird way, this spirit reminds of Hisashi, though it has a peculiarly childish aspect to it, a naiveté that stems from its detachment from humans and, what scares me the most, a simple disconnect from what I know as my own reality; I remember Ko and Hisashi telling me that the spirit world functions much differently from the human world, and that this would be a very powerful spirit. This is becoming more obvious to me, in how it understands things in such simple and elementary ways: it has no need to worry about any particulars of the morals and customs of the human world, or probably even those of the spirit world— they are beneath it, irrelevant. I hurry to ask, to sweep aside yet another terrifying revelation. “Hey, you seem to have a whole arsenal of names picked out for me, but what do I call you?”

“I have many names, though some are more well known than others. Some might remember me as Inori, Jun, or Nanashi.”

“Okay. So, which of those do _I_ call you?”

“It is of no matter to me, they are only a small few of the names I have been given.”

I throw my arms up in exasperation. “You’re a wind spirit, correct?”

“Among other things.”

“Ugh, okay, you’re a wind spirit, good.” _Other things? Like what??_ “Let’s go with Kaze, then. That’s easy enough.”

“As you will.” A sensation like shrugging. I mutter to myself about annoying, all powerful spirits and continue walking.

What has my life become.

In this featureless space, presented with no distractions, I force myself to consider the facts — or the facts as Ko and Hisashi would have me know them: 

1- There is a spirit world — that much I can believe, at this point, as Kaze seems to sweep around me in circles.

2 - Speaking of, I am bonded to a spirit — cue Kaze, once again, sweepin’ around me like a dingleberry (if I make fun of him/her/it maybe I’ll be less scared of him/her/-

“Hey, Kaze, are you a man or a woman? Or, like, neuter?”

The sweeping pauses before it continues, “I suppose I am closer to male than the others, though the next closest would indeed be neuter.”

“So, I can refer to you as a ‘he’?”

“As you will.”

“Okey doke.”

3 - Okay, so I am bonded to a _he_. Great. Another man I want to strangle.

4 - I have been to the spirit world before.

5 - Evidently I caused some trouble (depending on your perspective, I actually stopped it) and now bad spirits are after me. And Hisashi. He was the trouble I stopped.

6 - In fact, my books about the spirit world are actually repressed accountings of my experiences as a child.

7 - Since my books are about real people/events, Haku is real.

8- Haku is real.

9 - He’s real.

10 - As in alive.

11 - And Ko is…

12 - Ko’s….

13 - Shit.

I stop walking and slump to the ground. “You’re right.” It comes out pathetic and miserable.

“You will have to be more specific, pet.”

“I’m hiding. From Ko.” Smug silence, and I puff out my cheeks in annoyance. “It’s just — how the hell am I supposed to wrap my head around this? He lied to me! About something so important. _Someone_ so important. Himself…”

“And?”

“And, well, it pisses me off!”

“How so?”

“What do you mean ‘how so’?” I try and mimic his ethereal, whispery voice but only manage to sound like an emphysema stricken retiree. “He hurt me, and now I’m angry!”

A deep, reaching chuckle, before he his voice sounds right in my ear, “Do you want to hurt him back?” Invisible fingers tickling across my jaw, along my collarbones, “Do you want to make him feel the same pain he has inflicted on you? Pain made manifest? Do you want to see him bleed?” The spirit — Kaze — eases the connection between us open once more, but instead of the strange pleasure-pain of before shuddering across the line, this time I only feel heat. Viscous and pooling, dripping forward in angry heaves, a heat that embodies an unfiltered and primal fury. Like a tap slowly turning, the emotion begins to swell between us and my fists clench, my breath comes in frenzied pants.

I don’t want this.

I don’t want this feeling, this anger so raw it is no more than an animal instinct, abolishing all reason in its path. It is the feeling I tried to guard myself against, that I gave into when I hurt Ko, when I ran away from him. A feeling that is so at odds with who I am, and even what I had assumed about Kaze, during this unknown time Between — what I had so quickly allowed myself to forget about him, to try and put myself at ease. He is an ancient spirit, and he is dangerous. He is _this_.

“I-I don’t-“ I manage to stammer, but the ire roiling through me is so…tempting. There is power in it, security in letting go and giving in. Deep inside, I know that if I embraced this fury, I could level entire cities. And it’s exhilarating. 

I could let go of all the confusion, all the pain and duplicity, and simply let this emotion carry me forward. Any obstacles would be annihilated. And all of those who had injured me would be forced to experience the same hurt, the same terror, forced to face a retribution of the highest order.  
It would be so easy…

“You do not…? You do not what, little bird?” Kaze’s whispers are becoming more substantial as the tap continues to turn, as the rage flows more strongly; I swear I am beginning to see a flicker of movement in the corner of my eye. “You do not deserve what you have suffered. You do not know, or wish to know, how to respond to your suffering, what to make of it. So what will you do?” Hands grasping my throat, exerting just enough pressure to make my pants more strained, even as fingers stroke sensually against the skin there. “Why concern yourself with those who have wronged you, weak simpletons like your River?” Ko. Ko betrayed me… “Why not simply deny them, stop the problem at its source by removing it altogether? Why not simply end them? Hmm, little bird? Don’t you deserve that much, at least? Don’t you deserve to be happy, hmm? What will you do?” The grip on my throat tightens once, almost painfully, before loosening, before moving to tangle in my hair, tilting my head back. I’m not sure if it’s a lack of oxygen, but I swear I can see a form taking shape, Kaze being made corporeal as the the violent emotion grows stronger between us, bleeds into my limbs, leaves me shuddering. His voice whispers down the column of my neck, and distantly I am reminded of Hisashi doing much the same thing not too long ago. Hisashi, who lied to me… “Anger is lovely,” His words tickle and sting where they land, “Anger is easy. Will you take the easy way out, my little bird?”

Like a bucket of ice water being dumped over my head, his words shock me into awareness and I let out a choking gasp of air, slamming up mental walls that I didn't even know I had, cutting off the connection and stopping the insidious flow of ire. “No!” I shout, skittering back on my hands, “NO!” I am shaking, shaking, lips trembling as I try to erase the images Kaze’s words have painted in my mind, the death and destruction, yes, but above all else the ease of it all, the pleasure, even. “I would never, _never_ hurt my friends! No matter _how_ they have hurt me,” I wheeze, reassuring myself out-loud that the only reason I felt those things, the only reason I felt such perverse enjoyment in them, is because of the thoughtless fury being fed to me. That is _not_ who I am. “I love my friends, I only want them to be happy, to help them!” I yell, glaring at the shadow of a man before me. 

There is a pause, and the shadow tilts its head to the side, silently assessing me. It surges, reaches through the bond, easily overcoming my walls which have already begun to crumble, piercing my thoughts, searching through my very soul. I shudder at the intrusion but am powerless to fight back, and instead open myself up him, lay myself bare, in the hope that it will be over more quickly this way. After a moment, his mental fingers retract, and it is all I can do not to collapse. 

Another pause, this one strangely weighted, before the shadow twists in on itself and disappears. Kaze’s voice flickers past me, fluid and whispery once again, laced with what I can only describe as smugness. I feel as if I’ve unknowingly undergone some test and passed. “Then why are you hiding? My little bird.”

 

xxx

 

Once again, I am stepping into Kaze’s embrace, only this time I am not running; I go to face my fears, my pains and troubles. To try and understand my friends, to try and help them, despite their own duplicities. And this time, I have a name for the spirit — for _my_ spirit. And even though I have been manipulated into this union with him, even though he terrifies me on some, if not every, level — even though it is all too easy to give in to his primal, yet shocking, power, I think that I might have a somewhat better understanding of just what, and just who, he is. 

Although the when, where and why are still a mystery.

“Kaze?” It belatedly occurs to me to ask as his insubstantial arms fold around me. He has explained to me that in the human world, it is more difficult to communicate directly, unless I allow him direct access to my mind through our bond. After my last few experiences of “direct access”, I can’t say I will be doing that again anytime soon. So I hurry to ask my question.

“Yes, pet?”

“What were you doing in the human world? What do you want there that would prompt you to tie yourself to me?” Through our bond, he has the means of existing in the human world. He can even exert his will on me, to an extent. Most notably, though, he has powers that spirits usually lose when passing over — but he is constrained in that they can only be used through me. So what was the point of him sacrificing a physical body in order to retain powers, when there is no guarantee that they will be used the way he wants? That I will use them the way he wants? That I will even use them at all, from here on out? True, while in the human world he can influence me, but not nearly as much as while Between; he can effect me, but he can’t control me.   
So… _why_? 

His arms tighten around me, and this time I keep my eyes open, as the white space shatters around us like so many shards of glass splintering, being sucked away into pinpricks of light before an absorbing darkness swallows us whole. In the split second between the light and dark, I actually see Kaze for his true self. It is barely enough time to absorb more than an impression, of fierce eyes, pointed teeth and curling horns, scales and feathers and caramel colored skin. I take his image in and it is a mere blink before it is gone, whisked away, but my eyes tear at the sight. For I’ve never seen such a wild and unfathomable beauty before. I whimper once at the loss of such magnificence, at the knowledge that such incomprehensible loveliness exists in this universe and I may never see it again; a simple, basic, shocking kind of loss. His arms, once again unseen, tighten around me at the small, escaped sound, as his voice rumbles through me, echoing through my chest and bringing me back to myself with a nervous ache.

“The easy way, my little bird. I seek the easy way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy cannoli, sooo that happened  
> haha  
> What do you all think of Kaze? Don’t worry, he is NOT a love interest in the same way that Ko/Haku, or even Hisashi is (and let us all remember, that Hisashi is not even a love interest, just a tease, poor child). I am doing my best to paint Kaze as some weird, super powerful being that is completely superior to Chihiro and views her as intriguing, but quaint; she is an means to an end for him, but through the bond he is duty bound to her — he can’t help but guide her, on some level. Actually, I was really picturing the cheshire cat from alice in wonderland, while writing his dialogue, hence the use of strange riddle-like speech. So, imagine the cheshire cat but absurdly more powerful, and decidedly less direct in his intentions. Like cheshire, his morals are ambiguous, and if I had to categorize him I would say that his alignment is definitely chaotic neutral (so’s cheshire cat’s, probably). He is crazy powerful and beyond anything Chihiro or even Ko/Hisashi realize (though we catch a tiny glimpse of this when Chihiro sees his true form), and this is gonna mean BIG THINGs. (At least that’s the plan haha), He is *massively* restricted in his abilities, though, while in the human world — at least compared to his normal strength/power. The bond still affords him more capabilities than any other spirit passed into the human world has, though.   
> I decided that, even though he is really an ambiguous character in every sense of the word, including gender, I’d have him mainly identify as male. Because why not make Chihiro more confused with boy drama, it’s fun and makes me want to claw my eyes out yaayyy!   
> Also, Kaze literally means air/wind, and I kinda had a good long chuckle when I wrote that bit, because it’s like naming your dog ‘Dog’ or your cat ‘Cat’ — Chihiro’s being painfully literal in calling a wind sprit ‘Wind’. lolz  
> The other names also have cool meanings, btw! Inori means ‘prayer’ (since Kaze was literally summoned via prayer); Jun means ‘pure’, ‘obey’, ‘truth, and ‘falcon’ (I have this cool little head cannon going so far (wow a head cannon for what is essentially a head cannon, how meta) that Kaze is something of a ruling spirit, and that his alignment as chaotic neutral makes him a particularly effective, if terrifying, arbiter of justice (where the truth and obey comes in), and falcons are birds and he calls Chihiro little bird, and birds also need winds to fly and he is a wind spirit so ta DA!))))))); Lastly, Nanashi means ‘no name’ (and is a name given to orphans without a name, poor tykes), and off all the names kind of embodied the concept of Kaze the most, imo, as this almost omnipotent, eternal, creature; ultimately, he has no gender, has no one power or name…. cool stuff, cool stuff. 
> 
> OKAY. I think that is everything I really wanted to squeeze into this end note. It’s rather rambley and obnoxious, but I just spent the last idk how many hours typing this for you peaches, so I’m sure you understand :)
> 
> Thank you again for reading, I hope you enjoy!  
> x


	11. The Ties That Bind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi-hi, everybody! Thanks for your continued patience between posts!
> 
> Some news! I created a pinterest for TSNF! /kalipeda/
> 
> This is really great if you want to get an idea for how I picture characters, relationships and scenes, as well as the general atmosphere of the fic/moments. Please check it out and let me know what you think! It's organized by boards of individual main characters, paired characters, and then things like environment, future chappie inspo etc. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did making it!
> 
> Thank you and let me know what you think!
> 
> xoxo

_“The easy way, my little bird. I seek the easy way.”_  
   
Kaze’s words are overtaken by the sound of rushing wind, and the darkness resolves itself into blue and green, sky and trees, before I feel myself settle fully into _here_ and _now_. I am back in the clearing with the Hokora.   
   
“Are you still there, Kaze?” I question softly, and the faint breeze that moves across my cheek is more comforting than it has any right to be. Especially in light of those last ominous words. I frown and begin the trek back to the shrine, grumbling about deja vu. _One thing at a time, let’s take this one thing at a time._ I’m not sure if Kaze is part of the “us” in this scenario, or if I’ve suddenly begun thinking in ubiquitous terms.   
   
Reaching the shrine once again, I am met with the sight of Ko and Hisashi standing nose to nose, yelling, Hisashi’s fist wrapped in the collar of Ko’s shirt.   
   
“This is your fault,” Hisashi growls out, “You just had to push her, you couldn't let things lie!”  
   
“What was I supposed to do?” Ko growls right back, “She wanted answers. She _needed_ answers. I wasn’t going to keep her in the dark just because it was more _convenient_.”  
   
“And look what your honesty did. What’s the point of keeping her well-informed if it only drives her away? We don’t even know where she is — if she’s even on this plane anymore! She could be in danger! And it’s Your. Fault.”  
   
Both men begin to tense and I rush forward the last few steps before they can come to blows; that they haven’t noticed me yet is an indication of just how far gone they both are in their anger.   
   
“Stop!” I wedge myself between them and push on their chests with my palms, a little burst of wind helping me to propel them apart. “Stop.” I repeat quietly as both men stare at me in surprise.   
   
Hisashi is the first to regain his wits. “Hiro! Where did you go? What happened? Are you okay?!”  
   
“I’m fine, I’m fine,” I reassure him as he rushes forward and cups my face by the chin, tilting it this way and that as if to check for damage. “I know I was gone for a few hours, but I was safe.”  
   
Hisashi stops his tilting and frowns at me, “Hours? Chihiro you only just disappeared a couple minutes ago, that's why you caught us -- well…Anyway, just _what_ exactly happened?” He drops his hands and Ko steps up next to him, the both of them suddenly united in their shared concern for me. I worry my lower lip between my teeth as I note that Ko has yet to say…anything.  
   
“I, uh. I was _Between_?”  
   
“Between what?”  
   
“Planes? Worlds?”  
   
Hisashi’s mouth opens and closes but no sound comes out. Ko finally ends his silence to murmur, almost to himself, “I thought that place was only myth.”  
   
Hisashi turns to him with a nervous chuckle, animosity forgotten in my safe return and their shared shock, “Like dragons and spirits are myth?” He turns back to me, "What exactly happened?"  
   
"Kaze - um, that's the spirit I'm bonded to - he took me there. After what Ko told me," Ko trains his gaze on his feet and I clear my throat before continuing, "um, after hearing…all that…I needed some air. Metaphorically. Though I got it literally. Kaze told me that, through our bond, Between was, I guess still is, the safest place for me."  
   
"He…told you? And it's a _he_?!”  
   
I nod, "Since that space is closer to the Spirit World, he was able to manifest more fully and we were able to communicate. He's…" I trail off, remembering the brief glimpse of his true nature I caught while leaving Between, and my heart stutters before I shake my head. "He's something else. Quite literally. I think you two may have severely underestimated just how powerful he is. _What_ he is." Ko brings his eyes back to me with a frown and I hurry to reassure him, "But we've come to an understanding; for now our goals align, and he wants to help keep me safe, to keep you safe against the threat of the Kaonashi."   
   
"How do you know he isn't just playing you?" Ko asks me quietly. "How do you know he's honest in his intentions, that he won't take advantage of you and the bond." A scattering of leaves blow by our feet in what is, somehow, a distinctly exasperated manner. There, there, Kaze.  
   
My eyes narrow at the double entendre in his words. "He's not courting me, for God's sake," I drawl. "And I just…know." I slump slightly and rub behind my neck, "It's hard to explain. You say I was gone minutes, but for me it felt like at least a good couple of hours. And during that whole time, Kaze and I were…connected. I mean more so than we are in the Human Plane. Our connection was more open, our bond was heightened. To be honest, I was kind of at his mercy. But he didn’t actually, well, _do_ anything. I mean he did," I wave a hand to stop their protests of concern, "but nothing _bad_. And through it all, through the intensified bond, I could read what he was feeling. I could feel what he was thinking." I pause a moment, taking in their dubious expressions before continuing, "You're just going to have to trust me. I was able to speak to Kaze, to share a headspace with him, and I know that he will help me, help us. 

…And I also know that I've been less than gracious towards you guys. Because it's easier to be angry than scared. And -- I am." I clasp my hands together and look between the two of them with a heavy swallow. "I'm scared, guys. I'm _terrified_. Of what this all means, of what it could lead to. I'm scared I'll lose you, that I'll lose _myself_ …this changes everything. And I didn't want to believe it." I unclench my hands and force them to my sides, "But I'm done trying to take the easy way out." The wind brushes my forehead, winds between my legs like a content cat. "I'm ready to listen, now. I trust you both with my life, I owe it to you to trust that you're telling the truth, that you only have my best interests at heart, as you always have."   
   
Ko smiles proudly, but Hisashi only snorts. "Wow, only a couple of hours with this dude and he manages to get her to apologize. I usually have to wait weeks for one of those!"  
   
“That’s because usually I don't mean it and am only saying sorry to get you off your mopey ass," I smack his arm.  
   
“Oh-ho-ho, is that so!"   
   
I smile and shake my head, feeling as if a load has been lifted off my shoulders, "Most definitely. Now. Do you think we could try this again...again?"   
   
Ko places a warm hand on my shoulder and squeezes gently. _Haku_. "I think that's a great idea, Chihiro. Thank you for giving us a chance."   
   
I reach up and lay my own hand over his, “Ditto." _Oh man, that was a lame response._

   
xxx

   
This time we all settle on the steps leading up to the purification well; I think Hisashi is considering dunking my head under if I start to freak out again.   
   
"So, I've been to the spirit world before," I hug my knees to my chest. "I...saved you?" Hisashi nods. "And you, you are Haku." The last bit comes out rather choked.   
   
Ko nods. _Haku,_ I remind myself.  
   
"How come you didn't tell me sooner?" I ask slowly.   
   
"Besides the obvious?" Hisashi snorts, and I shush him.   
   
"I was scared, too." Haku winces. "Besides the obvious," he slants his eyes towards Hisashi who smirks, "trying to convince you that your books are real, I had to convince you that I'm Haku -- and after finally meeting you, getting to know you, I realized how important your character version of me was. It made it that much harder. Especially since you turned me into this infallible character, and idol. There was no way, is no way, the real me can or ever will live up that version you've created."   
   
I'm quiet a moment. "I understand. I still feel hurt, but I understand. I just wish..." I shake my head and let out a messy breath, "I don't know. There really would have been no easy way to go about this, huh?"   
   
"No." Hisashi tilts his chin up and closes his eyes against the sunshine, soaking it up like a cat. "Sometimes there is more kindness in a lie than a truth, Hiro."  
   
"But it's still a lie."   
   
He doesn't open his eyes and remains relaxed in his posture, "Is it? I was banished into the human world and cast off my past. I chose a new existence and refused to look back. I didn’t tell you about it because it was no longer relevant; the past does not exist for me."  
   
"But...you still found me," I frown, pointing out the major flaw in his philosophy. "You didn't completely abandon your past, and in meeting me again and withholding that information, you--"  
   
"What? Had an unfair advantage because I knew your character right away? I knew what kind of a person you are, your capacity for selflessness and self-sacrifice, whereas it took you a few months to learn I'm a sarcastic ass?" He slits an eye open to glance at me before closing it again.   
   
"I...I feel cheated." I manage to word how the situation makes me feel. "Maybe you chose to cast off your past, but mine was unwillingly lost."   
   
Hisashi shrugs, "It was for your own good. Look where people remembering shit has landed us." I scowl at him and he grins, "I can _feel_ your glare."  
   
Haku sighs and dry scrubs his face, "It's obvious that you two won't be seeing eye to eye on this. And I'm torn between the both of you -- I wanted to tell you, Chihiro, but like Hisashi, your safety was more important. That's why I only found you so long after coming into the human world." Here he frowns and the words go unspoken, _why Hisashi found you first._  
   
For his part, Hisashi seems to pick up on the silent sentiment and finally opens his eyes again, brow creasing. "Honestly, it was pure coincidence that Chihiro and I met again. I always wondered about her, but held myself back from ever seeking her out, for the same reasons you did, Ko. Keeping her completely disconnected from everything that happened was the safest route. 

But then your manuscript just appeared on my desk, Chihiro, and it was...astonishing. It seemed like fate. I reasoned that you would be safer under my protection than on your own. Had I known all this would happen, though..." He looks at me with a stricken expression before turning to lock eyes with Haku. The two of them share in some silent communication that ends with Haku nodding once, almost apologetically, and Hisashi resuming in his reposed sunbathing.   
   
"What?" I prod, none to patiently.   
   
"I can't fault Hisashi for seeking you out, though I want to — mostly because he has had so much time with you and because of your...well, yeah." I blush, knowing he eludes to our romantic relationship. "I said I didn't seek you out immediately, but I've also been in the human world a much shorter time. Only about a year, really."   
   
"So, proportionately, you actually met me much sooner than Hisashi ever did." I raise an eyebrow at him.   
   
He rubs his neck with a murmured, "Yeah, I guess." Straightening once more, he faces me resolutely. "But there's more to it than that. I can't fault him, because I should’ve been banished, too. And I wasn't."   
   
A moment of silence and then my strangled, "What?"   
   
"I told you your memory of me was but a reflection of the truth," he says gently before diving right in. "When Hisashi was sent by his father to infiltrate and bring down a rival house, it was with Intel provided by an inside source -- a member of the gang who had been sent in as a sleeper agent. Me."   
   
“How- _what?!_ “  
   
"Ashi and I had a long history before the events at the bathhouse ever happened." Ko glances at Hisashi who still lounges, eyes closed, though his lips have thinned and his shoulders gone tense. "Time is different in the Spirit World, it has less -- almost no -- meaning than it does here. When our grandfather grew ill-"  
   
"Wait - so - you're _cousins?!_ “   
   
"Unfortunately," Hisashi mumbles, but is ignored.  
   
"Yes," Haku repeats without aplomb, "we are cousins." I sense that he is trying to be as succinct in his recounting as possible, so I swallow the information with wide eyes and a scattered brain but make no more comment. "When he began to grow ill, so did I. Both of our rivers here in the human world were being abused in their own ways, and the effects on our avatars were rippling between planes. Grandfather lost his vitality, his power; I began losing my memories of who I was, my sense of self. 

It was decided by Hisashi's father, my uncle, that this created the perfect opportunity to plant me as an agent within the organization of a rival, to be activated once the Koanashi began their rise. My already weakened state was too tempting for the owner, Yubaba, to pass up, and she was able to take extreme advantage when she sealed a contract with me, instilling me as her head overseer, forced to follow her every whim and command.    
   
Through the filling of my river avatar and the contract, I forgot who I was and why I had been sent to the bathhouse, but it was all according to plan -- it made me trustworthy. The time eventually came that Uncle was ready to make his move, and he sent Ashi to enter the bathhouse after me, to break my contract with Yubaba, and to extract me along with all of the information I had naturally compiled over the years regarding the inner workings of Yubaba's wider organization and her magic, and we were to destroy the house on our way out."   
   
"But, _I_ broke your contract,” I interrupt hesitantly.   
   
"You did." Haku smiles, and I sense there's more to that particular event than I remember in my books, beyond stomping on a black, sludge slug.   
   
"You sure did, yupp,” Hisashi echoes with a pop of his lips.   
   
"And I ruined everything for you," I whisper, taking in the stoic look on his face. The look immediately softens.  
   
"No, Hiro." Hisashi reaches out and catches a strand of my hair, wrapping it around his finger before giving it a gentle tug. "You _changed_ everything for me. There's a difference."   
   
"But, now you're forced to die a human death, Hisashi -- and that's my fault! You're going to _die_ because of me."   
   
"I got to _live_ because of you, Chihiro." Hisashi lets the strand of hair go in favor of gripping my chin firmly, "Make no mistake -- my existence until that point was not a life. I was glad to see it go."   
   
"But -"  
   
"No 'buts', unless they're perched on a set of long legs. Now let Ko finish."   
   
"But-"  
   
Hisashi rolls his eyes and places a hand over my mouth and nods at Haku who stares at the hand accusingly.   
   
"It's either this or listen to her blame and guilt herself into tears," Hisashi shrugs unapologetically and I elbow him in the ribs. Hard. He oofs out a breath but keeps his hold. "Continue, Ko," he wheezes, and Haku obeys, although slowly.  
   
"Right. Well. As you've been told, your time at the bathhouse was...eventful. You had enough of an effect on Hisashi that he was unable to suppress his...qualities...and he rampaged early."  
   
I try to mumble through the warm fingers on my lips but Hisashi only sing-songs, "Also not your fault!"  
   
"In the end, you had a profound effect on both of us. You broke my contract and helped me remember who I was, but I no longer wanted to help the Kaonashi -- I wanted to help you, instead."   
   
"Same here," Hisashi cocks his head to the side, meeting my eyes. "Suddenly, all of that didn't seem important anymore." I'm thankful his hand is large enough to cover most of the bottom half of my face, along with the blush I feel rising. But Hisashi must feel the warmth bleeding under his palm because a wicked grin breaks past his lips.   
   
"So, not only did the job fail -- two members lost, no information gained -- but because the bathhouse remained standing and full of witnesses, our cover was blown right over, and the Kaonashi were very much exposed. Well, Hisashi's cover. My role as a sleeper lent me an alibi through the ordeal, so when the Ruling Powers doled out banishment as punishment, I alone was left unaccused." Haku falls silent and his shoulders sag heavily under the guilt I know he feels -- not for his role in all this, necessarily, but for Hisashi and Hisashi alone.   
   
The fingers slowly drift away from my mouth and Hisashi stands to move next to Ko. Seeing them sit near each other, now knowing that they are related, I can see the similarities in their dark hair and even height, the lines of their jaws and the bows of their lips; though Hisashi is slightly broader in width than Haku's more lithe frame, and Haku's nose is more pronounced, a strong feature in his face. And though their eyes are different colors, one pair green the other amber, they both gleam and spark like gemstones, shades no normal human being would possess unless aided by contacts.   
   
"I do not blame you either, Cousin." Hisashi murmurs, leaning his shoulder against Haku's.   
   
"I could have fought for you, Ashi." Haku breathes, twists his fingers in his lap. "But I was too cowardly. I did not wish to meet the same fate. You have every right to blame me, to hate me."  
   
"Nor do I hate you. I envy you, yes," I bite my lip as I watch his eyes track towards me before he stops himself and focuses back on Haku. "But never hate."   
   
Green eyes squeeze tightly shut before meeting amber. "I will make it up to you. I will not let you die a human's death."   
   
Hisashi smiles wryly and grips the back of Haku's neck, "I have lived a human's life a hundred times over. To die as one would not be so bad." Haku's lower lip trembles, honest to God _trembles_ , before he buries his face in his cousins shoulder and Hisashi wraps him in a hug with a gruff laugh. "You put on a tough face, but you always were a softy."   
   
"Shut up," the muffled response is shaky and weak.   
   
I quickly look away and debate whether I should leave them or not, give them the privacy to properly reunite, to admit and forgive old hurts. I twist the hem of my shirt between my fingers and study the toes of my shoes, pretending not to hear the sniffles next to me, but can't help the smile from growing on my face. Hisashi is not as alone as he thought and I am incredibly glad for it.  
   
"Okay, that's enough of that." Hisashi eventually, but gently, says and Haku pulls back with a rough rub to his eyes. "And you -- what's so funny that has you grinning over there?” he raises a brow at me.   
   
"The bromance, man. It's blinding."   
   
"Oi. Don't even start," he warns, but my grin only grows.   
   
"Too bad you're related. I'd ship it."   
   
“O-oi!" Hisashi quickly lurches to his feet and puts a few steps of distance between himself and Haku. "Well we are related, ya perv, so get your mind out of the gutter!”  
   
"What, what does a boat have to do with our being related?" Haku asks confusedly, eyes slightly puffy, and Hisashi's groan is a counterpoint to my own peals of laughter.

xxx

 

Sometimes simply giving up control of your situation can be more liberating than maintaining a firm grasp on it. Opening yourself up to possibility and fate is freeing when the alternative is wallowing in the misery of strict belief; what can and cannot be real, what should and should not be possible -- it's own kind of dogmatism.   
   
I was scared to listen to Haku and Hisashi. Of what the greater implications of their truths might bring. So I fought them on it, closing my ears to reality simply because it seemed too fantastical to be just that: real.   
And I only suffered for it.   
   
Now, I let go of the superficial, the worries and concerns whose impact will only be felt much later. Some part of me, a large part if I'm being honest, still feels lied to. But having heard their stories, I can understand the reasons behind their actions, even if I might disagree with them. And for now, our very lives depend on my accepting this new world, these new histories, my own secret past.   
   
So, I let go of my fear and allow myself to rely on my friends, to believe in truths more basic than those that have recently passed between their lips, truths rooted in my very being and essence. Truths of loyalty and love.   
   
I let go of my fear and place my trust fully in these connections, and in doing so am buoyed. Hope and light infuse my soul, knowing that I have Haku and Hisashi on my side, that they will always fight for me, protect me -- as I will do the same for them.   
   
I remember the nightmare I had so many weeks ago after first meeting who I only knew then as Ko. The sensation of falling infused with pure terror born of _not knowing_. But in that dream, once I blocked out the fact that I was helplessly hurtling through a new reality of space and sky, once I allowed myself to trust and reach out -- fingers grasped mine, a hand reaching right back for my own. And I stopped falling. The _not knowing_ became _knowing_ , the _fear_ became _confidence_ , and instead of _falling_ , I was _flying_.   
   
And that other person reaching out? Begging me to simply trust them?  
   
At the time of the dream I could not turn my head, could not set my eyes on the figure who gave me such security, who promised me such safety and warmth. Now, the answer becomes all too obvious. The dream becomes something _more_.  
   
Something tickles at the back of my mind, wiggles it's way forward and demands to be known. Magical barriers have sealed my past away, and yet impressions have managed to remain, captured in my writing -- once again, an impression rises, strains to become clear: not just a dream, but a memory.   
Of Haku.   
   
Of falling, falling and then being caught, hand strong in my own, keeping me aloft, propelling me forward.   
And all I had to do was let go of my fear and trust. Trust that through it all, his hand would be there, waiting.   
   
So now, once again, I cast off my fears. I give in to the sensation of weightlessness, of falling, having no control of what is happening around me.   
I reach out.   
And I _fly_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG I seriously would ship it, though, holy cannoli yes I would! (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)و
> 
> Well, specifically, a polyamorous relationship between our main trio, but I know like 99% of you did not sign up for that, so I'll restrain myself! Plus, I made them cousins now — partly to ensure that restraint, but also because Hisashi needed a bright spot in his life, and having some family when he was all alone until now, with only Chihiro in his corner, well, it made me happy ^_^
> 
> I know this was all dialogue and little action, but I think I've finally reached the point where all of the necessary information is finally in the open, allowing the story to finally progress and shit to do down! So I hope you're as excited as I am!
> 
> In case anyone is unfamiliar with the term dogmatism, it has to do with dogma, which a set of rules which are held as being incontrovertibly true. It usually refers to religious principles, and can be a good thing — believing unwaveringly. But when taken to extremes can be bad when these beliefs are based on unproven theories or are held despite facts. It's being narrow-minded to an extreme, going even further by precluding even a willingness to listen.


	12. All Bets Off

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my lovely (and also probably slightly angry) readers!
> 
> I live!
> 
> Your continued patience and support humbles me.
> 
> Thank you for not giving up on this mess, or me.
> 
> I approached this chapter with the intention of slamming you with something like 10k words of writing, to make up for my absence, but the reality was much less obnoxious -- though still a respectable 10+ pages. I hope you enjoy.
> 
> Remember, I have a tumblr and pinterest, both @ kalipeda. The tumblr is full of ghibli and writing themed posts, and the ideal place to message me with questions, comments, concerns etc. The pinterest is a great visual supplement to this fic, imo, with boards for every main character, relationship, as well as some environmental/'aestethic' posts. Check it out, you'll love it! (no bias there, HA) 
> 
> My last note is with regards to a new fic I've started...I didn't mean to, the damn thing completely invaded my life. I will not be posting it, as I am prioritizing TSNF (no worries, peaches!), but I AM excited about it ~ it's a SNK Ereri fic, and I am equal parts anxious and proud about how it will be received. I will let you know once I decide to start posting for it (not until I'm basically done with TSNF), but when I do, I hope you choose to wonder over and give it a looksie! 
> 
> Okay, thank you all again. You are amazing.
> 
> All the best,
> 
> x

*You have ~10~ new messages*

 

*First message*

Hey, it’s me! How’s Tokyo treating you? Is it more like To-ki-yooooo? I’m waggling my eyebrows, by the way, you gotta waggle the eyebrows to get the full effect there. Call me back!

 

*Next message*

Yo! What’s going on? I haven’t heard back from you yet! Did Hisashi go full Hulk on you? Do I need to beat him up? Call me!

 

*Next message*

Okay, so I don’t want to sound like a paranoid stalker friend who’s worried, but I’m a little worried here. Call me back, please!

 

*Next message*

This isn’t funny anymore! What the f—

 

*Message skipped.*

 

*Next Message*

Okay, I’m sorry I swore at you. But I’m really worried! Please call me back! I’ll involve Ko, I swear I will!

 

*Next Message*

Turns out Ko called me. What the hell have you gotten yourself involved in?! I swear if you die, I will kill you! KILL YOU! And Hisashi! Especially him!

 

*Next Message*

Okay, so before you kill me, just know that Ko can be really scary when he wants something, and it’s your fault I had to use your gps tracker in the first place! If you would just CALL me, I would know you haven't been horribly maimed and wouldn't feel the need to act like a parent who chaperones every one of their kid’s school dances out of misguided concern. It was your idea to have the gps in the first place in case of an emergency, and I would definitely consider this to be an emergency! So don’t expect an apology!….but also I’m sorry and I love you and please call me back!

 

*Next Message*

You all suck. No one is answering my calls. What is going on?! Please don't be dead! We were supposed to die together at the ripe age of 100, our young muscular husbands weeping beside us at their loss! *muffled noise in background* Because you would die before me, Ren, and of course I would remarry! It would only be for his body, though, sweetheart, my heart will always be yours, of course. But anyways, my point is — we are not 100 yet! So call me!

 

*Next Message*

Ogino Chihiro, so help me, if I do not hear back from you by midnight tonight, or from one of your stupid boyfriends, I swear I will reign down more dad jokes and b-grade memes on your head than you will know what to do with! Don’t make me call the police! My eyes are too bloodshot with stress to be featured on national news right now pleading with the public to keep an eye out for my idiot best friend! So call. Me. Back! Like, now!

 

*Next message*

Screw it. I’ll see you soon!

 

*End of final message.*

 

 

I take my phone off of speaker and look up from its screen rather helplessly. 

 

“Did that last message mean what I think it did?” Hisashi pinches the bridge of his nose. 

 

After splitting a couple of granola bars for dinner, squirreled away in my purse, I had decided to check my phone, only then realizing that my voicemail account had kicked me out. Logging back in, I was met with an onslaught of messages from a very unhappy Rumi who, it seemed, I would be seeing soon…

 

“She can’t come here,” I assert firmly. 

 

“Sure, how are we gonna stop her, then?” Hisashi drops his hand tiredly. 

 

“We’ll just have to send her back!”

 

“Unless you’re willing to knock her unconscious, I don’t see that happening any time soon,” Haku mumbles, familiar with Rumi and her stubbornness by now. 

 

“This is not happening,” I whine, massaging my temples. “How am I supposed to explain all of this to her?” I flap my hands in a spazzy, all encompassing motion, taking in both boys as well as myself…and the lazy shush of wind flickering in small, playful dervishes around my feet. Not to mention the entire business with the Kaonashi gang and, well, yeah… “She’s gonna commit me to an asylum!” I throw my arms up before sinking into a sulk on the Temple’s front stair. 

 

“Let’s not rush to any conclusions, yet. Maybe we can keep the truth from her for now,” Hisashi muses.

 

“So, lie?” I frown, “‘’Cus that worked for you guys so well the last time.” I’ve just about had it with lying, thank you.

 

“No, not lie. Just…not tell the truth.” 

 

My frown deepens. Really?

 

“Only for now, Chihiro. We _will_ tell her, if that’s what you want. But it was hard enough convincing you even _after_ you tied yourself to Kaze. You honestly think Rumi will just come along for the ride?” Hisashi’s brow lifts somewhat mockingly. 

 

I respond by sticking my tongue out at him, silently conceding his point. “So then what now?” 

 

“We have to stop the Kaonashi from hunting you,” Haku answers.

 

“Duh. But how exactly do we stop a gang of exiled immortals from doing just that?” I huff.

 

Hisashi and Haku share a look, before amber eyes close briefly. Blowing out a breath and rubbing at the back of his neck, Hisashi’s wince is closer to a grimace. “We have to find my father.”

 

“And what — kill him?” I snort. My small chuckle quickly dies, though, when Hisashi and Haku remain tight lipped and silent. “W-will we?” my question is small and hesitant. 

 

“Maybe,” Hisashi shrugs, trying to seem nonchalant, but I know that as much as he might hate his father, he could never kill him. It would break him. Family has a funny hold on us like that. Though I wouldn't exactly call the contemplation of murder funny. 

 

“I’m not…” I shake my head once, “I won’t let you do that.”

 

“Hiro, that’s not your decision to make. If it comes to picking between you and that bastard, there’s no competition. Besides, it’s not like he wouldn't kill you if given the chance. It’s not like he hasn't before or like he won’t again. Like he hasn’t done even worse. Killing him would be a justice.”

 

Standing, I firmly grab Hisashi’s shoulder. “Maybe he does deserve it, but you are no more a judge than I am. That’s not for us to decide.”

 

“Then who will, Hiro? If not me, both victim and accomplice, then who? Hm?” He brings his face close to mine.

 

I grit my teeth, “I don’t know, but I won’t let you add the murder of your father to your conscious.”

 

Hisashi barks out a laugh, “It would be nothing but satisfying. Like killing a mosquito or any other parasite.”

 

“Would it?” I ask quietly with narrowed eyes, holding his gaze. We stand that way for a charged moment before he licks his lip once, tearing his own eyes away to look at his feet. _That’s what I thought_. “We will find another way,” I let go of Hisashi and take a step back, turning to Haku. “Isn’t there something else we could do? Could we contact the Ruling Spirits? Petition for their aid?”

 

“They would never concern themselves with this side of the veil,” Haku shakes his head. “It’s of no concern to them.”

 

“But the Kaonashi — they _are_ their concern. The Ruling Spirits _put_ them here!”

 

“Yes, and now they're human,” At the edge of the path, Hisashi faces away, hands on his hips, the muscles in his shoulders tense. “The Spirit Realm in its entirety has washed its hands of any obligation to us.” Then, more quietly, “They don’t care what happens to us.”

 

“Well they should!” I splutter. “Didn’t you say that what happens on this side of the veil effects the other? They _should_ care!”

 

“Spirits have no sway in this world, Chihiro,” Haku says almost sadly. “The strongest of us can help a person here or there, stop a small child from drowning, but beyond that? Even if a Ruling Spirit did deign to pass over to assist us, they would emerge on this side a mere human like you or me. They would be powerless against the Kaonashi. Not without a blood contract. And they would never make themselves so vulnerable by tying themselves to a human in such an inextricable manner.” I wonder with not a small amount of unease, once again, what motive Kaze would have to do just that, but force my mind back to the task at hand. Thinking about murderous gangs is somehow less troubling…

 

“Can’t they just - take them back?”

 

“The Kaonashi?”

 

“Yes! Just take the Kaonashi back to the Spirit World and punish them there where they _do_ have authority!”

 

“That’s exactly what the Kaonashi want, though, Chihiro,” Hisashi turns back to us. “They _want_ to go back to the Spirit World. They _want_ to be given the opportunity to reclaim their power. That would be playing right into their hands!”

 

I pull on my hair in irritation, thinking desperately for a solution, before a slow grin grows on my face as I remember his earlier words. “No. It wouldn’t.”

 

“Oh? And how do you figure that?” Hisashi is all derision. 

 

“Because you’re forgetting one, teeny-tiny, little, important thing,” I sing-song sweetly.

 

A dramatic sigh. “Which is?”

 

I tilt my head and the grin turns wicked. “They’re human.”

 

My statement is met with two equally dumbfounded looks. Hisashi holds up a finger and opens his mouth, but then closes it with a click, blinking rapidly, hand dropping. Haku just looks like someone slapped him, staring blankly, eyes wide, mouth slightly agape. 

 

I let them wallow in their shock for a moment before my smirk comes back full force. “Well?” the word comes out a near purr. I’m far too pleased with myself right now.

 

“That-“ Haku is the first to regain his powers of speech, but still has to clear his throat a few times as he murmurs to himself. “That actually makes sense-“

 

“WHY didn't we think of that?!” Hisashi recovers quickly on Haku’s heels, hands thrown high, as he too speaks into the middle distance. 

 

“- I mean, that could seriously - “

 

“- It’s SO obvious! -“

 

“ - if we play this right, if we’re careful - “

 

“ - but if WE didn't think of it, _those_ morons definitely won’t suspect - “

 

“ - we might actually have a chance at this.”

 

“ - we might actually survive this shit storm after all!”

 

I snort. “You two are so similar, and yet, so very not. How did I not suspect you were related before?”

 

“What?” They turn to me in unison, same adorably scrunched look of confusion on their faces.

 

I hide my smile behind a hand, “Nothing. So - you think I’m onto something here?”

 

“Onto something?” Hisashi strides forward and I can’t help but yelp as he wraps his hands around my waist, lifting and swinging me effortlessly through the air, “You’re onto _everything_! You just saved us!” He spins me once more before placing me back down, and we share a breathless smile.

 

Haku steps forward and Hisashi squeezes once before dropping his hands from my waist. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Haku cautions, but there is a smile on his face, too. “There is no guarantee, but — if you’re right, Chihiro… then, yes. You may have just saved us.” He sounds cautious but relieved, lifting a hand to cup my jaw, fingers hooked behind my ear as his thumb strokes down my cheek once. 

 

I lean into the touch, but can’t stop my eyes from anxiously flickering to Hisashi, who still stands close. Do I really want to broach this subject now? 

 

But my concern is unnecessary. 

 

Hisashi meets my gaze, looking a little sad but resigned, and shrugs softly as if in encouragement, as if to say ‘I’m happy that you’re happy’, ‘I’ll be okay.’ Grateful, I reach out and take one of his calloused hands in my own, and Haku reaches out with his other hand to also grasp his nape in an apologetically comforting grip. Hisashi, in turn, rests his own free hand on Haku’s shoulder as he squeezes my fingers in understanding, accepting the unspoken apologies our actions communicate: That my love for him is not the kind he had hoped for. That it might soon belong to someone else…though what exists between me and Haku is still too new, too undeveloped, too fraught with misunderstandings, evasions and omissions, to be labeled as of yet. 

 

We stand there a moment in silence, the wind oddly still, as if Kaze is cocooning us in this intimate moment; our emotional and spiritual bonds made physical for these few, peaceful minutes, reconciling and healing, as we mentally prepare for what is to come. Glancing between Haku and Hisashi, I only feel strength where before I was awash in panic. Confidence is pouring into me through where we touch, through the connections we share, invisible to the eye. I will protect these idiots with my life, I will fight for them until the bitter end. And they will do the same for me. My love for these two is different but equally strong, and it in turn gives me strength — strength to transform from a scared little girl into who I am today, to accept the impossible as reality. Strength to command even the wind itself. 

 

_Ah, Little Bird. We will do such great things, You and I._

 

I shiver, but Kaze’s words, whispered against my skin, do not scare me. They are not grounded in anger or a thirst for revenge. So instead, a thrill runs up my spine. We will; with Haku and Hisashi by my side, we will make this world a better place — we will make _both_ worlds better places. I close my eyes for a moment, soaking in the feeling of absolute certainty that thrums through my veins, the crackle of Kaze’s power a murmur in my bones. When I open them, Haku and Hisashi are watching me attentively, sensing some internal change, questions in their gazes. 

 

The smile I give them is sly but reassuring. _We will do such great things_. “So. Where do we start?”

 

x

 

“The hard part will be gaining an audience with the sadistic ass without being shot or stabbed, first. After that, it should be a cake walk.”

 

“Gee, great,” I roll my eyes. We’ve moved to the steps of the purification well in anticipation of Rumi’s imminent arrival — another problem to consider, but I’ll wait until she actually gets here to do that. In the meanwhile, the three of us have outlined a basic plan. 

 

It was my blood contract with Kaze that really sparked the realization: Haku and Hisashi were operating under the assumption that if any of the Kaonashi were to return to the Spirit World, it would be as spirits seeking revenge for the perceived wrongs done them. In reality, though, they would be just as human as me. If we could convince them that Hisashi wanted to make amends and help them reclaim their lost crime empire by smuggling them across the Veil, we could take advantage of their humanness and force them into contracts through Haku’s bath house, binding them to the other realm and essentially forcing the Ruling Spirits into action. 

 

It seemed simple enough but, as Hisashi had said, we had to first avoid being killed before we could even hope to act on the rest of the plan. Especially me, the cause of their downfall to begin with. How could we convince Hisashi’s father? How could we transport them across the veil? Convince them into a contract with the bathhouse? True, without a contract to bind them to the Spirit Realm they would begin to fade away, but we wouldn't be the only ones with whom they could strike a deal. 

 

As we consider the finer details, it becomes apparent that the entire endeavor will be much more harrowing than initially thought — but still, it’s a plan. And despite the complications, the best one we have. The best we can do is go step by step and try to account for any and all potential contingencies; I feel like a certain pirate as we all agree that the plan will be less a code of rules, and more of a guideline for our actions. 

 

I will definitely be imbibing libations of rum when all of this is done.

 

All of the rum.

 

Despite their uneasiness, both Haku and Hisashi grudgingly agree that Kaze will be invaluable to our plan, providing extra fire (or, rather, wind) power. _I_ grudgingly agree that if things go bad, I will allow Kaze to whisk me away to safety in Between, again. Before it comes to that, though, we have to decide how to even get this disaster of a show on the road…

 

“It’s not so much a matter of getting my father’s attention — my actions on the bus made sure of that,” Hisashi winces, recalling his beatdown of the pickpocket. “I basically left a calling card.” I blink at the suggestion that bashing people’s faces in is Hisashi’s version of a voicemail, and decide to ignore it. 

 

“We know. The problem is making contact without meeting a watery grave,” I wrinkle my nose. Hisashi nods. 

 

Haku rubs his chin while saying slowly, “What if I go?”

 

“Absolutely not,” I don't hesitate. 

 

Even Hisashi is shaking his head rather vehemently, “I’m not letting you risk yourself alone.”

 

“Hear me out,” Haku holds up a hand. “Oyabun-Ojisan doesn't know my role in the family’s fall — he completely blames you, Ashi.” Hisashi raises a brow at him with a look that says _really?_ Haku only frowns in apology while continuing, as I still struggle to come to terms with the title of ‘uncle boss’ he just used, “As much as that pains me, it might actually work to our advantage.”

 

I think I know where he’s going with this, but I ask anyway, “How so?”

 

“In the confusion of the Kaonashi’s banishment, I was able to hide away — they never knew what happened to me, or whether Hisashi even broke my contract with Yubaba. I can seek an audience with the Oyabun under the pretense that he did not, and that my memories have only just come back. That I’m here to help.”

 

I’m just thinking that that might actually be a pretty solid lead in, when a familiar voice interrupts, “Who the hell is Yubaba?”

 

I grimace. Looks like Rumi is here. 

 

“Banishment from where?” another voice adds. 

 

And she brought Ren. Greaat. 

 

The two stroll towards us towing a duffel bag, dressed head to toe in black.

 

Rumi’s arrival makes me grimace, because I’d rather she not kill herself attempting to be helpful, but I still sigh in relief when she wraps me in one of her typical bear-hugs, near strangulation and all. Ren stands near and awkwardly pats me on the head, which makes me snort. 

 

“Whose ass am I kicking?” Rumi somehow manages to tighten her hold on me.

 

I wheeze, “No one’s except your own, for thinking it would be a good idea to come here.”

 

She holds me out at arm’s length, “Rude. Of course it’s a good idea — it’s a great idea! You know I’m a black belt! And Ren…well, he’s very mysterious, right? That’s gotta count for something.”

 

I face-palm while Ren looks equal parts insulted, as well as strangely proud. 

 

“A black built will not stop a bullet,” Hisashi comments drily, his words edged.

 

“Well, no..”

 

“And it won’t protect you against half a dozen men who have half a foot and a hundred pounds of muscle on you.”

 

“No, but —“

 

“It won’t stop you from being severely hurt or even killed — in fact, it might make you die more quickly, if you overestimate your abilities.”

 

“Okay, I get it!” Rumi spits. She takes a deep breath and turns back to me, “But did you really expect me to be able to just sit home when I knew you were in trouble? That you needed help? I know I might be…” she clears her throat, “I know things might not end well. For any of us. But what’s the point of living if it’s with the guilt of knowing I let you walk into this mess without me? What if I _can_ help? You’re my _sister_ , Chihiro — I could never abandon you, even if to save my own skin.”

 

“I seem to recall a trip to the beach and being chased by geese, when you literally tripped her so as to facilitate your own escape,” Ren purses his lips thoughtfully.

 

“Not - not the same thing!” Rumi sputters. “A goose is not a yakuza!”

 

“But they have _claws_ ,” he holds up a curled hand in demonstration. 

 

“Oh God, we’re all going to die,” Hisashi groans, and closes his eyes in silent prayer. 

 

“Both of you, shut up!” Rumi holds up both hands, fingers pointed at her boyfriend and Hisashi. Meanwhile, I’m frowning at the memory of being mauled by geese. They _do_ have claws, and I have the scars to prove it.

 

“Hey, so, what’s in the bag?” Haku buts in, and we all turn to him, before turning to said bulging duffel. 

 

Rumi’s face breaks into a wide grin, and she jumps up and down while clapping her hands giddily. “That’s the best part!” Reaching down, she lowers the zip with a flourish and a “Tada!” before stepping back and letting us gape.

 

“Are those?” I begin, but can’t quite finish.

 

“Yupp!”

 

“Where did you get those? And how?” Hisashi seems begrudgingly impressed.

 

“I mean, Ren _did_ spend a year abroad. Of course he smuggled back some souvenirs!”

 

“That’s more than ‘some’,” I finally manage.

 

“And not what I would call souvenirs,” Haku adds.

 

“Eh, poh-tay-toe, poh-tah-toe — you say guns, I say chachkis.”

 

“Chachkis,” Hisashi repeats in disbelief. 

 

“Ooh! There’s also a bunch of other cool spy gear in there!” Rumi crouches down and begins rummaging through the bag, pulling random items out that I can’t identify beyond the fact that they looks very _expensive_. “Ren won’t admit this, but he has a total obsession with Mission Impossible — he spent his entire allowance on these gadgets during his months in America. You can get _anything_ there, if you have the money for it, illegal or not. He still won’t tell me how he got them back into the country, though. Guns _are_ illegal _here_ , after all.” She holds up a clear box of what looks like earplugs, “Look! Hidden mics! This way we can stay in touch, even if we get separated.”

 

I watch Rumi unpack the bag and babble on excitedly, pointing out certain devices — a radio jammer, an automatic lock pick, night vision goggles, small cameras that can easily be hidden… Looking up, I catch Haku’s eye, uneasiness in my gut. 

 

As much as I think we can, and probably will, use many of the spy gear, the guns are a whole other story. I know things will probably get violent, but I’d never considered that _we_ might also do some killing. And I decide then and there that we won’t. Haku reads the thoughts flickering across my face and nods once. I smile softly in relief.

 

“The guns stay,” I interrupt Rumi’s chattering, voice firm.

 

She seems to deflate, “But-!”

 

“No, Rumi,” I tell her softly. “We won’t become the very people we are fighting. I appreciate the risk you took bringing those guns here, that you are loyal and fierce enough to want to protect us by any means possible, but I won’t risk us killing.”

 

“We could aim for limbs only?” she tries halfheartedly, and I can’t help but chuckle.

 

“Is your aim that good?” Haku asks.

 

“Well, I-“

 

“Have you ever even shot a gun before?”

 

She’s quiet a moment before crossing her arms with a petulant, “No.”

 

“So then, no guns. Okay?” I repeat.

 

She seems to struggle with herself before letting her arms drop with a loud breath pushed through her lips, “ _Fine_. No guns. I guess. Even though we’d look totally bad ass with them.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. I even dressed like a ninja for the part. Now I just feel silly.”

 

“You’ll still have the other spy things,” Ren reminds her. “I’m pretty sure there’s a taser in there — that’s non lethal, at the right level.”

 

Rumi perks up, “Oh, that’s right! Okay, dibs on the taser!”

 

“You can have it,” I assure her, and she begins searching for it earnestly. After a moment, her pawing slows, and she looks up.

 

“What will _you_ have as protection, though?” she frowns at me.

 

Now it’s my turn to blow out a noisy breath, “That’s where things get _really_ interesting.”

 

x

 

While Hisashi pulls Ren to the side for a moment, to introduce himself properly, I can only assume, I sit Rumi down. “This is going to sound crazy, Rumi-Bumi,” I tell her, using her childhood nickname, “but you have to trust that I’m telling the truth.” 

 

“You only call me that when shit’s really about to get real,” Rumi worries her lip between her teeth as Ren and Hisashi rejoin us. She quickly grasps onto her boyfriends hand. “I’m listening.” 

 

And so I tell them. I tell them that my books are not just the creations of an imaginative child, remembered in adulthood and recorded, but repressed memories. That the spirit world is real. I tell them about the Kaonashi gang and Yubaba, Haku and Hisashi, about how I stumbled into their world and changed it completely. About the Kaonashi’s bid for power and subsequent banishment, how they’re now set on revenge. I tell them about Kaze and Between, and the wind spirals around us in confirmation. I tell them everything, and through it all, they remain silent. Rumi’s eyes grow rounder, her mouth falls open wider until it’s a gape, Ren blanches slightly, but they don’t interject, either to comment or question, until I’ve finished explaining the plan, ending with Haku’s latest suggestion. 

 

“I didn’t believe it either,” I tell them, once the silence becomes just long enough to be awkward. “It took more than one fight, a couple of embarrassing breakdowns, before I was able to stop being stubborn and realize that they were telling me the truth. That everything is…real.”

 

“Real,” Rumi echoes, no sound behind the moving of her lips, before standing up and my stomach plummets.

 

“I-I swear, Rumi -“ I rush to say, trying to stop her from leaving; from thinking I am the worst of friends, spinning her such a lie. She only holds up her hand in a silent request for silence before reaching into her back pocket. My eyebrows crease, and Haku and Hisashi exchange a look out of the corner of my eye. My eyebrows go from severely furrowed to raising nearly into my hair line as Rumi removes her hand from her pocket, taking her wallet with it, from which she smoothly extricates a crisp bill, and which she wordlessly hands over to Ren with a disbelieving shake of her head. 

 

“Damn conspiracy theorist,” she mutters under her breath as Ren looks only smug, color regained. She turns to me with a frown, “You couldn’t have told me sooner? You just cost me 50 bucks!”


	13. The Plunge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Queue Mushu rising from sleep: "I LIIVE!"  
> Hello, friends, it's me your absentee author. Today tumblr informed me that my blog for this fic (/kalipeda) celebrates its 1st birthday today, to which my head promptly near exploded. 
> 
> Thank you for your continued patience, all the love and support.  
> As I've always said, this fic will be finished, I just have no idea when.   
> Thank you for sticking with it. :)
> 
> All the best, please enjoy!
> 
> x

(little recap of last chappie: The gang is all together, Chihiro has explained the truth and the plan to convince the Kaonashi to enter into the spirit world and then a contract so as to put them with the Ruling Spirit's jurisdiction once again, and it has been confirmed that Ren is a conspiracy theorist and Rumi likes to take bets)

 

 

        “You - you believe me?” shock has made my voice little more than a whisper.

Rumi turns to me with a bittersweet smile, “Too many times have I not listened when you spoke; too many times have I tried to force my own wants and beliefs on you. I know better now. And I know you. You’re not crazy, and you’re not a liar, so the only rational explanation left is that, well, you’re telling the truth. So, yeah. I believe you, Chihiro.”

I reach out and grasp her hands in mine, heartfelt tears gathering in my eyes at her incredible show of faith, but the moment is interrupted by Hisashi’s incredulous snort.

“Oh man, if only you’d had the same confidence in us as Rumi has in you — I would have avoided many an unnecessary headache these last days.”

“Shut up,” I frown, kicking out and nailing him in the shin. 

“Well it’s true!” he mumbles, but Haku cuts him off with a hand on his shoulder. 

I won’t admit that Hisashi is right, or that I’m uncomfortably jealous of Rumi’s trust in me. It makes me feel like less of  a friend, in comparison, for having hung onto my doubts so fiercely, despite my insights, when she has accepted this story at its face value. Shrugging it off, as Hisashi does Haku’s hand, I stand and clap my hands together as if in prayer.

“Okay!” I dive right in, “Now that we’re all on the same page! When do we start?”

We stand there a moment in awkward silence, each of us looking from face to face, before Ren suggests, “Um. Now?”

“Yeah, now sounds good,” Rumi nods. “What else are we going to do?” With a grin, she raises an arm into the air before holding it forward in front of her, palm down.

“Mm, what are you doing?” Hisashi eyes the limb disdainfully. 

“Oh, come on!” Rumi rolls her eyes. “It’s a hand stack!” she shakes her hand for emphasis, “Let’s go, let’s go, pile ‘em on!” When nobody moves, she glares at her boyfriend, before he lets out a long suffering sigh and complies, placing his hand on top of hers with a harmless grimace. Ren, in turn, looks to me with a pitying face, and before long, I’ve joined the stack and bullied Hisashi and Haku into joining as well. Standing in a circle, now, shoulder to shoulder, our small group breathes the same air, anticipation and tension strumming through our joined fingers, despite the somewhat corny scene. “Okay,” Rumi exhales, “okay. Shit is about to go down. It is about to get real. We _will_ be shot at—“

“Well I don't know about tha—“

“We _WILL_ be shot at,” Rumi plows over Ren’s interruption pointedly. “We are going to face a mob of angry spirits. A gang of ex-demons. An organized group of—“

“Rumi.”

“Ehem, yes, so in all seriousness: things are probably going to get ugly. Some of us will probably get hurt. Maybe, well, maybe worse. We are going to be scared, and more than a little lost.” Here she pauses, and I’m beginning to doubt she understands that these hand stacks are usually meant to motivate. “But we’ll be scared together; lost together. Ren, I love you. Chihiro, I love you. Haku, I love you. Hisashi, I find you slightly more than tolerable.”

“Ha. Ha.”

“But my point is, no matter what happens, I know that as long as we are in this together, we will be okay, in the end. We make a kick-ass team, and we will do just that: kick ass. Also, I am incredibly reassured by the presence of Chihiro’s mystical wind spook who seems to be very invested in her survival, and also strong, so here’s to hoping that if shit really hits the fan, he can pull the plug on this suicide mission.”

“Had us until the end, there, Rooms.”

“Yeah, I know, reality is a bitch. But so is Karma. And the Kaonashi have a lot to answer for. Let’s see that they do.”

“Solid save.”

“And you doubted me. Now, on three, are you ready?”

“Wait, wait, wait! _On_ three or after?”

“After.”

“Are we, like, yelling something, or?”

“Yeah, I’ll feel kind of stupid if we don’t have some kind of shout.”

“Like a motto!”

“Because this whole thing hasn't been stupid from the onset?”

“Shut up and help us think of a motto.”

“How about just ‘go’?”

“That’s so boring, though!”

“I mean, we’re about to face enough excitement to balance it out, I think.”

“Don’t side with him!”

“How about Sen?”

“…”

“Like, Chihiro’s contract name?”

“Yeah.”

“…”

“Hell of a precedent, I suppose.”

“I guess I’m okay with that.”

“Oh, for shit’s sake, just start the damn count down!”

“Okay, okay! On three!”

“Wait, now its _on_?!”

“Babe! Don’t make me kill you! Okay, ready? One, two, three, SEN!”

We pump our arms before lifting them in a shout, the last syllable echoing through the shrine’s clearing.  
        _Sen_. Just as I was forced into contract, so too shall the Kaonashi. They will face justice.

“That was the most absurd thing I have ever had to take part in, and I dated Chihiro.” Hisashi near spits before stomping away, reaching into his pocket.

“Way to ruin the moment!” Rumi sticks her tongue at his back.

“Gee, thanks,” I roll my eyes.

“Ashi, where are you going?” Haku calls after him.

“I have to make a phone call,” he responds over his shoulder. “It seems we need to set you up an appointment. Ready yourself.” And with that, he disappears around the corner of the shrine, while the rest of us sober under the weight of his words. 

 

x

 

Despite ‘Operation Sen’s enthusiastic start, the next few hours are spent in disappointing inertia. Setting up a meeting for Haku is taking much longer than I expected it would. Rumi sprawls across the ground, not caring about the dirt and grass, playing idly with her hair, while Ren lounges near her feet. 

       Haku and I sit on the stairs, listening. 

       From inside the shrine, we can hear Hisashi as he dials, speaks a few words, and hangs up, only to dial another number and repeat the same process. Even though he extracted himself from the Kaonashi gang, he still has contacts on its very fringes, and he is now threading his way through their network, trying to work his way up until he is able to speak with someone who _matters_ in the gang. Someone who can put the word out that Haku is in town, and looking for an audience. 

Hours pass this way, and I’m starting to doze off against Haku’s shoulder when a sudden quiet within the shrine startles me back into awareness. Sitting straight again, Haku and I exchange a silent look before standing, mentally preparing for the news we sense coming. Rumi notices our movement and stands, nudging Ren to join her as she comes to wait at the foot of the stairs.

Another tense minute of quiet, and then the door slides open, Hisashi emerging and looking terribly tired. Aged. My heart bleeds for what this re-exposure to the Kaonashi and their ways must be doing for his mental health and ptsd…I should stop this, tell him to leave well enough alone. And yet, if we don't do this, he might not even survive to worry about his psychiatric well being in the first place. So I silence the therapist in me, scold the friend in me into shifting priorities, promising both that I will keep as close an eye on Hisashi as possible, try to guide him through this. It is the only choice left.

“I got you an in,” Hisashi rasps, scrubbing at his forehead with the back of one hand. The other still clutches his cellphone in a white knuckle grip. “Tomorrow at noon. I was able to get through to a foot-man who notified his captain. It’ll be them you’re meeting with.”

“Where?” I choke out, nerves beginning to buzz along my skin, behind my teeth. 

“A Mahjong parlor downtown. I know it, it’s a cover for Kaonashi dealings.”

“Won’t that make it more dangerous?” Rumi bites her lip.

Haku shakes his head. “It doesn't change anything — this has to be done. And if we’re on their own territory, they’ll feel more at ease. That false sense of security can play into our hands.”

“But what if it’s a trap?” she counters.

“It won’t be,” Haku insists. “A captain is too low on the chain of command to make those kinds of decisions, and to be frank, I’m too big a fish for them to fry on their own.”

“They’ll try to intimidate him, maybe rough him up, but until he’s met with the Oyabun, he’ll be safe,” Hisashi reassures. I try, in turn, to feel reassured. “We should leave tonight, get back to the hotel before it’s too late. It has the two beds and a couch, we can all stay there, refine how tomorrow will proceed.” 

Mumbling agreements, we scatter briefly to collect our odds and ends, before gathering once more at the purification well. As the others begin their descent down the shrine steps, I pause and turn, taking in the place of worship once more. A thin fog slithers in, the distant sound of broken chimes plays, and now more than ever, as nature re-encroaches on these man made structures, moss and vine replacing wood and tile, the whole thing looks truly otherworldly. 

“It’s thin.”

I jump slightly and turn to Haku who I didn’t notice stop at my side. “What?”

“The Veil between worlds. It thins more and more each day, here.”

“I remember. You said that shrines were bridges between worlds, places where they were closer together.”

“This is different,” Haku says quietly, turning away until I’m looking at his profile. “What happens when a bridge suffers too much use?”

“It needs repairing?”

“Yes, and if those needs are never met?”

“It falls apart; crumbles.”

We’re quiet a moment before he goes on, “28 years ago, this bridge’s capacity was used to the point of abuse; it was not meant to sustain such use, and it broke.”

“28 years?” I wrack my brain, trying to come up with the significance of that time. “Wait. 28 years ago, that would have been when Hisashi was born…” I trail off, unsure, but Haku nods. 

“This was the entry point of the Kaonashi. It became a place they loath and avoid — I don’t think this is the first time Hisashi has come here seeking security, as a result.”

I look at the shrine with new eyes, picturing a young, mistreated Hisashi hiding amidst it’s dilapidated halls. “You said it broke.”

“Yes. The banishment of such a large clan all at once was too large a strain, and the bridge between worlds was damaged irreparably, passage through made impossible. As it continues to collapse, the veil grows thinner; soon this shrine will not be here at all.”

“Where will it go?” I ask, but I think I have an idea. I can see it in the corners of my eyes,  now, a faint ripple I did not notice before, a leeching of color and shape.

“Between,” Haku confirms my guess, turning and making his way down the steps at last. “It won’t be long now. This might have been the last time Hisashi was able to see it, before it is well and truly gone.”

I wrestle with that a moment, yet another loss for Hisashi; his one safe haven quite literally disappearing off the face of the planet. But then another thing Haku has just said niggles its way to the front of my thoughts.

“You said passage was impossible,” I call after him, still perched on the top step. He stops mid descent but does not turn. “Then, how did Kaze come through?”

An emotion that I refuse to acknowledge is tightly bound within his words as he answers, “I have absolutely no idea,” before continuing on.

One last time I turn to the shrine as a cold wind pulls through the clearing. Again, the chimes ring and the fog eddies, twisting and curling. If I look close enough, I swear I can see figures in its opaque billows, hear a child’s laugh, the sound of feathers on scales. 

I blink the image away with a swallow and spin, hurrying to follow my friends as quickly as possible. 

 

x

 

Turns out Rumi and Ren drove here, taking ferries between islands, so not only do we not have to walk back into the center of the city, but I also know how they managed to bring a duffle bag of weapons with them, too. We make it back to the hotel in decent time, parking in its underground garage and hurrying to the elevator — another plus in all this is that the Kaonashi will not know to look for the tiny Toyota, so for now we have a relatively covert means of transportation. 

“Dibs on the bed closest to the window!” Rumi pushes through the unlocked door before Hisashi even removes the key.

“Please. By all means,” he comments drily before letting the rest of us pass. 

“Thanks,” Ren tells him in his boisterous girlfriend’s stead. Inside, Rumi is already calling room service and ordering a random assortment of foods.

“Do you have any non-perishables?” she frowns. “Like some granola bars or, oh yes, that’s perfect! Could you deliver some of those as well? Tomorrow is going to be a busy day, and I’m peckish. Yes, that would be lovely. Thank you!”

“Planning on going camping?” Haku smiles.

“No, but who knows how the next few days are going to go down. Better to be prepared! And while I brought extra batteries for a laser guided handsaw, I neglected to bring the kinds of batteries humans need.”

“Good thinking, Rooms,” I tell her.

“I know!” she responds brightly. Ever so humble, our Rumi is. 

Dinner arrives on a series of carts which has Hisashi shooting daggers at my ambitious friend. “How much did you order?!”

“I’m hungry!” she pouts back.

“It’s alright, we can pack up the leftovers into the mini fridge,” I interject.

“See!” Rumi jumps on her defense.

“If there’s even enough room for them all,” I can’t help but add, laughing as she visibly deflates. 

As it turns out, Rumi had the right idea when she ordered this near feast; we all fall into the meal as if we’d been deprived for days, the only sounds to be heard the clink of chopsticks against porcelain, and the quiet chewing of five ravenous mouths. The mini-fridge ends up only half-full, and we agree that the leftovers will make a good breakfast. 

I excuse myself to the bathroom where I change into pajamas, lending my extra pair to Rumi who changes with me. Hisashi is also kind enough (if rather begrudgingly so) to loan out spare sweats and t-shirts to Ren and Haku, who all take turns because they’re too manly to be semi-naked at the same time, I guess. Rumi and I exchange matching snorts. 

After, once we’re all comfortable, we settle about the room, Rumi and I on one bed, Ren on the floor by our feet, Hisashi leaning agains the desk and Haku taking its chair. 

“Soo, tomorrow’s the big day,” I say lamely before trailing off. 

Hisashi coughs to hide his laugh and I shoot him a look. Haku’s smile is indulgent as he agrees, “Yes. It would seem so.”

“Well, how are we doing this?” Rumi asks, ever one to get to the heart of a matter.

“I will go to the parlor and meet with the Kaonashi captain. Hopefully he will believe me to be sincere, and secure another audience for me with the Oyabun.”

“No shit, Sherlock, but what about the rest of us?” Ren sighs. Hisashi glances between Ren and Haku, no doubt shocked that the latter isn't insulted, and I realize that he would have no idea the two are actually good friends.

“It will probably be best if Hisashi stays here, out of sight. If you could drive me, Ren, we can get to the location early and scout out a good place where you can wait. If things go south, which I doubt they will, I’ll get out of there as fast I can and you can drive us away to meet with Hisashi at a different location. We’ll be able to adjust our plans from there.”

“Sure, man, no problem.”

“And me?” Rumi asks expectantly. 

“You will join Chihiro at the studio,” Hisashi answers before Haku gets the chance.

“What?” Rumi whines.

“What?” I protest. 

“You’re of no use to Haku,” he says, and before I can get offended, plows on quickly, “The Kaonashi know you are in the city with me, thanks to the bus incident. Right now, we need to distract them from my presence and have them focusing on Haku’s plan of redemption. If they see you, they will only come looking for me and everything will fall apart. Haku needs to ingratiate himself to the clan, get them to believe he has a way of returning them to the Spirit World and their seat of power — get them completely invested into this scheme before I’m even mentioned. It will be more difficult to convince them to allow me to be involved than to get them to agree to the plan in the first place. Ideally, I need to stay out of the picture for as long possible, so you do, too.”

“If that’s the case, then I can wait in the car with Ren.”

“To what end?”

“Hisashi is right, Chihiro,” Haku shakes his head slowly. “You would only be sitting there, and while nobody would think twice seeing Ren, if anyone glances in and recognizes you, it could still spell the end. 

I thought Studio Ghibli was important to you?”

“It is!”

“You were willing to throw yourself into harm’s way for it, before,” Hisashi reminds me, “Why give up now all of a sudden?”

“I’m not - _giving up_ ,” I throw my hands wide. “It’s just, you - you all are too important to me. When it was just me, it was fine. But now that everyone is here…”

“So, as long as it was only you doing the dying it was okay, that’s what you’re saying?”

“Um. Yes?”

Haku winces and Hisashi dry washes his face with a muttered “suicidal idiot” before looking to his cousin as if to say _Do you see what I have to put up with_?

“Chihiro.” Haku pats his suffering cousin on the back before turning to me. “It’s okay. We’ve got this, trust us. These books are important to you, and all those kids out there whose lives you might save with them matter just as much as we do. You won’t be doing any harm to our side of the plan by going, only helping your original cause.”

“But what if somethings goes wrong?” I chew on my lip.

“It won’t.”

“But how can you be so certain?” 

His smile is a little sad, “I just have to have faith that it won’t.”

“He’ll be mic’d and so will Ren. If anything goes wrong — and it won’t — Ren will call me and I’ll make sure they both get out safe,” Hisashi finishes. 

“How?”

He doesn't answer.

“ _How_ , Hisashi? By sacrificing yourself? No way! _Now_ who’s the suicidal idiot?”

“Dude,” Rumi lets herself fall backwards onto the mattress. I’m not sure if her frustration is with Hisashi for willing to be so reckless, or for his last statement only making me harder to convince. “This close!” she holds one hand up, finger and thumb centimeters apart. Ah, of course — she barely puts up with Hisashi; his self-sacrificing streak would hardly worry her. My continued arguing and unhappiness, however… I pick up a pillow and half-heartedly smother her with it. 

“It won’t ever come to that, Hiro, but if it does, we’re all more or less screwed anyway, so my giving myself up might actually throw them off just enough to work in our favor. I just would rather not open with that particular act,” Hisashi attempts to placate me. 

I stop killing Rumi and fold my arms with a huff, thinking furiously. 

As much as it pains me to say this, he makes sense.

These books and this movie are important, to more than just me. They deserves a fighting chance, one I have to give them. And I believe Haku and Hisashi to be telling the truth (yeah _now they are_ , a cynical part of me I quickly shush butts in).

I have no choice but to, well, have faith. 

“Fine,” I finally, and grudgingly, accept, and Rumi cheers from under the pillow she hasn't bothered to move. “But if anything happens to you!” I let the threat fade off unfinished.

“Then you and Kaze will blow in and save the show,” Ren grins almost deviously. 

“Absolutely not,” Hisashi snaps, and Haku, too, is shaking his head no.

“Uh, absolutely _yes_ ,” I snark back. Rumi drops her arms from their cheer with a dejected moan and kicks out blindly, managing to get Ren in the head.

“Babe!” he whines, rubbing the spot.

“This close, Ren! This. Close!” she finally shifts the pillow to glare at him. “I am _tired_! I want to go to _bed_!” 

“Babe,” he frowns, equal parts apologetic and still milking his new injury. Rumi rolls her eyes at him and sits up.

“If not Chihiro and Kaze, then who? Because I’m not letting you losers be captured by a bunch of ne’er-do-wells, and especially not this loser here,” she pokes at Ren with her foot again, and he latches onto it, hugging her calf to his chest and near pulling her off the bed. She tries to play it off, but that’s hard to do when half your body is suspended in mid-air. She gives it a valiant effort, though. “Well?” she pushes, voice half-strangled, as she struggles to keep herself upright. 

“I have an emergency contact. If things really go to shit, you will contact her and she will help you.”

“Who is she?” I ask.

“A friend,” is all Hisashi is willing to reveal. I frown at him, but he only looks stoically back.

“Okay, now that that’s settled, can we please go to bed?” Rumi breaks our impasse with a beg before letting out a surprised whoop as Ren finally yanks her to the floor with a crash. Before she can retaliate, he stands, scoops her up, and flings her onto the bed by the window with a bounce. She blinks, takes in her new bearings, and smiles. “Thanks, babe!”

“No problem, babe!” And then Ren is flinging himself next to her. 

I look at the bed I'm sitting on, and then at the single couch, and then at Haku and Hisashi. “Um?”

“That’s gonna be awkward sorting out,” Rumi snickers sotto voce before Ren shushes her, but with a non-too subtle snicker of his own. 

“I’ll take the couch!” I nearly shout, standing abruptly. “You’re family, you can share the bed. It’s not weird, right?”

“Uh, I guess not,” Hisashi slowly permits, but he doesn't look too convinced. Haku on the other hand looks fine with the arrangement, if not a little disappointed. I pretend not to notice, and refuse to imagine why, already fighting a blush. 

I march over to the other bed and yank off its coverlet. Rumi shrieks, “Hey!”, as I pull it over my head and shoulders before waddling over to the couch and falling on to it, the ends of the blanket closing around me like a burrito. 

“That’s what you get, instigator,” I hiss at her through narrowed eyes.

“Fine, whatever, at least I have a man to keep me warm instead!” she does the title of instigator justice, before Ren rolls on top of her with a whimpered, “Please just shut up. What if she sicks the wind woo-woo on you?”

Now I’m snickering. “Really, Ren? Woo-woo?”

“You shut up, too,” he humphs.

“How about we all shut up and get some rest?” Hisashi interjects. He and Haku are under the covers, now, back to back, though they haven't awkwardly placed themselves on extreme opposites of the bed, I’m glad to see. 

Varying sounds of affirmation echo through the room, and then it’s just the occasional rustling of sheets as one of us shifts into a more comfortable position.

I’m still worried about tomorrow, that something could go wrong. It was my idea to approach the Kaonashi gang in the first place, and I can’t stop the feeling of responsibility from making my mind whir through potential devastating outcomes. Slowly, though, despite my nerves, my brain begins to still. And as my eyes flicker shut to the final thought of my friends embarking on this undertaking with me, there is a smile on my face.

 

x 

 

In the hotel room, we all pause just over the threshold, the door clicking closed behind us, and in the early morning light, we wait. We don’t wait for anything in particular. We stall, just for a minute; this one, short moment before it all begins. Like children approaching the top of the high-dive, we are simply taking a steadying breath before plunging into the deep end of the pool. 

My knees shake, my heart beats sickly against my ears and in my temple.

I am…scared. Unsure. 

Will this work?

My plan?

If it does not…

Fingers, hesitant, brush against my own. Then again, with more confidence, before firmly clasping tight in reassurance. Haku. 

And on my other side, shoulder solid against mine, a steady presence. Hisashi

Behind me, two more touches on my back, warm, comforting. Rumi and Ren.

No. Not my plan.

_Our_ plan.

And it will work.

We stride down the hall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That last scene I listened to the song 'Jack's Dream' from the Oblivion soundtrack. 
> 
> I'll be trying to make playlists for the rest of the chapters I write, as much to set the mood as you read as to bribe you into forgiving how long it takes me to post new material haha!
> 
> Reminder that I also have a pinterest (/kalipeda) featuring cool imagery to help you picture every main character, relationship, and plenty of scenes/moods.  


	14. Off the Deep End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> HEllo!  
> Surprise, I’m still here!  
> Have almost 20 pages! I’m sorry for always making you wait so damn long between updates, and I adore you all for your patience and continued loyalty to this mess.  
> This chapter has something you’ve all been waiting for! I hope I do it justice :’)  
> Reminder to come find me on tumblr/pinterest @ kalipeda. I’ve also made note in the end comments of songs I listened to during different sections of this chapter, and why they fit. Check 'em out for a 'fuller experience'. p.s. If someone can tell me how to hyperlink, I will love you forever, because I have no idea how to actually link in said songs to make "checking 'em out" easier for you lovely folk.
> 
>  
> 
> Brief recap of last chappie: “Operation Sen” is a go ~ Hisashi has gotten a meeting for Haku with a captain of the gang; the shrine is disappearing to Between; sleeping arrangements are awkward.  
> (gosh last chapter was lame, in retrospect haha)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BTW: warning for stronger language and imagery in this chapter. I've always tried to avoid more explicit things, so as to make this friendly for work etc, but I've spiced things up a bit, there’s an f-bomb thrown in there and some crasser humor…let me know if you love it or hate it, and if you’d like to see more of it or not.
> 
> okay, thank you again for your support! Please enjoy and let me know what you think in the comments! :)
> 
> x

_I hate this._

A guide shows me and Rumi to the animation room, where a wall is already covered in sketches, bringing my characters to life, but I can’t concentrate on them.

_I hate this so much._

In the hotel lobby, I hugged Hisashi fiercely, told myself this plan would work, tried to recapture the strength I had felt at the hotel door. Hated myself for being so fickle. So full of hope and bravery one moment, shaking with fear and doubt the next. Hisashi gently took hold of my face, fingers laced in my hair, palms on my cheeks. Brought his forehead to mine, and commanded me to _Breathe, Hiro. It’ll all work out, I promise._ I nodded once, and he kissed my forehead slowly, before turning to his cousin. 

People checking in/out of the hotel, gave us sympathetic looks: for all intents and purposes, we appeared to be an extended family, saying goodbye for a long time.

God, I hope that wasn't true.

Hisashi and Haku buried their noses in each other’s necks, arms tight around shoulders, and Rumi and I exchanged a tearful look at the overt show of such desperate affection. After a long moment, Hisashi gradually disentangled himself before turning and walking quickly towards the elevator banks without another look back, and my heart hurt. Even though he had reassured me so sweetly, Hisashi was scared, too.

The four of us left made our way outside and loaded into the car, Hisashi driving with me in the passenger seat. The short drive to the bus stop was quiet and tense. Rumi and Ren both got out, and I caught a bit of conversation, _You better not die, asshole, I love you too much_ , before the door closed behind them. And then it was just me and Haku. 

My eyes were riveted forward, my hands tight fists in my lap. 

“Chihiro.”

_I hate this._

“Chihiro, look at me, please.”

_I hate this so much._

A warm hand on my chin, turning me towards him. Such affection in those eyes. Eyes that traced every part of my face, as my own did the same. Tracking across dark brows, strong nose, firm lips. _Remember, remember, remember,_ I told myself, tension building. _Remember the way his brow furrows just so, when he's angry or concerned. The laugh lines around his eyes that crinkle. The dimple in his cheek that flashes when he laughs long and strong._ And the tension built on. I was trembling with it. I was scared, that that would be it. That something would go wrong, and that would be the last time I saw those eyes, lit up with life.

The grip on my chin strengthened, shook me gently to get my attention. “Chihiro,” he said once more, voice calm but confident. I looked into those eyes, and they were warm. They sparked. The tension broke. “This is not a goodbye kiss.”

And before I could register what he had just said, his lips descended on mine. 

This was not how I imagined our first kiss. This was not hesitant, and sweet, humid breath trapped between whispers and gentle caresses.

This was teeth and tongue, a desperate clash of openmouthed pants. My hands in his hair, pulling him closer, closer, never letting go. 

This was Haku reaching down to disengage my safety buckle before pulling me across the center console and into his lap. Me straddling him and pressing tight, trying to meld our bodies together, to erase all space between. 

This was hands, hot, so hot, sliding like electricity under my shirt, against the skin of my back, holding me tight, tighter still, his nails scraping light lines that claimed me as his.

This was a moan shredding its way past my lips as he nipped and sucked below my jaw, before claiming my mouth once more.

This was fire, and I was burning up so good.

Just when I felt myself start to move against his lap, he stopped the kiss. I growled, but let him. My hands were still fisted in his hair, and he cupped my jaw as we rested forehead to forehead, panting desperately. 

I swallowed once, twice. “That better not have been a fucking goodbye kiss,” my voice came out wrecked, “because I want more.”

He laughed, and it sounded gravely and strained. “I promise.” And then his lips were on mine again, but this time gentle. This time sweet. This time like that first kiss I imagined, soft and barely there, his eyelashes on my cheek, his fingertips on my throat. Barely a few seconds long, and yet it punched me in the stomach and stole all my breath. 

He pulled back and I nodded, blinking rapidly, and managed a “See you soon,” before I opened his door and basically fell out onto the sidewalk, not quite slamming the door shut again behind me. Rumi and Ren were holding hands, and I could see that they were trying desperately not to remark, under the circumstances. 

I quickly gathered Ren into a hug, and kissed his cheek. “You stay safe, understood?” 

“Yes, mom.”

And then he and Rumi exchanged one more lingering kiss, before he was getting into the passenger seat, and the car was pulling away. 

I clung to Rumi’s arm, and she squeezed my hand reassuringly.

“So, uh. That happened,” she finally couldn't help anymore.

I decided to recycle. “That asshole. He better not die.” The rest of her earlier statement hung unspoken in the air. _Because I love him too much._

She laughed, and led me to the bus-stop overhang, “I know, sweetie. I know.”

_I hate this._

Our guide keeps shooting me concerned glances, which I do my best to ignore. It’s obvious that my mind is somewhere else, and Rumi apologizes on my behalf, with the excuse that traveling has simply made me feel under the weather. 

As we take seats around a large table, covered with more sketches and character concepts, I try to focus, but it is a seemingly losing battle; my thoughts keep skittering away, picturing Haku beaten and bloody, arms caught behind his back. Someone important is talking, lifting up illustrations, and I smile and nod, though I have no clue what they are saying. I juggle my leg up and down. Rumi answers a question directed towards me. I whittle away at a hangnail. Something is written down. _He’s fine._ A draft agitates the pages on the table, and a picture blows into my lap. I still. 

It’s Haku. Or, rather, a dragon. Someone must have seen the statue I had commissioned back home, because this drawing is an identical likeness. Muscle, scales, and teeth. Strong. Fierce. Capable. 

That’s right. 

As scared as I am of this situation right now — Haku on his own in the heart of enemy territory — I also know that this is not his first time doing something like this. I forget, that though he looks my age, he is much older than me, far more experienced, and unfortunately used to putting himself at risk like this. He was a member of the Kaonashi, after all. 

It’s a small comfort, but a comfort none the less, and I send out a mental thanks to Kaze. That was no regular draft. 

And again: that’s right.

As scared as I am of this situation, right now, that I can’t be there to help Haku, I can still do _something_ about it. 

I wait until there is a lull in the conversation, and then excuse myself to the bathroom, ignoring Rumi’s rather scathing glance. Locking the door behind me, I grip the sink and lean my weight forward, eyes half closed. 

“Kaze?” I whisper, concentrating on our connection. And again, “Kaze, I know you’re there.” He’s never far away from my side.

A lick of a breeze across my neck. 

_Listening_

“Kaze, I need you to do something for me. I would really appreciate it.”

_Curiosity_

“I need you to go to Haku —“ 

_No-disgust-no-no-how-dare-_

“Listen to me!”

…

“I am safe here. The Kaonashi have no idea about my background or why I’m here. The studio has good security. I’m safe. But Haku might not be! I know he is competent, but I can’t _concentrate_ , I can't _do anything_. I _need_ to help him, if I’m able, and with you I am!”

_Refusal-no-he-is-nothing-you-are-me-me-us-we-protect-us-you-_

“I know. Kaze, I know. But I am safe. All I’m asking is that you watch over Haku, and if something goes wrong, you let me know so that I can call Hisashi. I know Ren is going to be looking out from the car, but he won’t really be able to tell if something has happened until it’s too late.”

_Disapproval-dislike-not-important-river-does-not-matter-you-we-us-matter-_

As he gets more agitated, an image slowly blurs in the mirror, a great shadow stalking back and forth behind me in anger.

“Kaze, please!”

The figure stills, and though he is little more than gloom in outline, I swear we lock eyes through the mirror.

“If something happens to Haku, it will not…be good for me. I will not-“ I cut myself off. “Just. Not good. Okay? Please, just watch over him. If not for his sake, then for my own. You and I will still be connected, I will call you if something even smells wrong here, I promise. Just do this thing for me, this once, and I swear I won’t ever ask you to leave my side again.”

_Ever?_

“Sure, ever.”

_Never-apart-never-alone-together-me-you-we-us-forever?_

“I-“ I swallow thickly. I’ll probably die soon, anyway, right? “Yes. Forever.”

_Swear-it-promise-yes-bond-blood-oath-covenant!_

“Um, I -“

_Now-now-promise-vow-swear!_

“Okay! I-I swear it! On our blood-contract. If you help me keep Haku safe, we will be bound f-forever.” 

_Yesss._

Kaze’s shadow grows more solid. He steps close behind me, wrapping me in his cloud of murkiness like an embrace. His foggy form suddenly contracts around me, and I am enveloped in ice, so cold it burns.

_Mine-mine-little-bird-my-little-bird-covenant-covenant-forever-_

A line of fire amidst the ice, freezing down the inside of my elbow.

_Yes-yes-forever-never-alone-never-again-always-you-me-us-we-mine-mine-MINE!_

And then the ice is shattering and I lose my breath with pleasure as fierce joy and animal possessiveness rush through me — and then Kaze is gone. 

I sink to my knees, my teeth chattering and my breath coming out in visible clouds in the chilled air. It takes me a few minutes, but I finally get my shivering under control. Hesitantly, I lift my sleeve. There, reaching from elbow, halfway to my wrist, is a line, about a finger’s width wide, tapered at each end, like a vein cut open. I run my fingers over it, surprised when they don’t actually come away bloody. 

“Okay. Okay,” I huff out a near hysterical laugh, as I let myself fall onto my bottom, legs folded in front of me. I poke the…tattoo?…again, and shiver at the sensation. If I concentrate, I can feel the line between me and Kaze pull taught, more obvious than even before, like steel wires braided together instead of ribbon. I let go of the connection, but am confused when the sense of his presence doesn't go away, like it normally would; I can still sense him distantly, a dark, churning presence on the horizon of my thoughts. 

Did I just make our bond _stronger_? 

Will Kaze have more influence over me? That’s…not good. But what if he has more access to his powers, now? Despite the trade off, in light of the confrontation we no doubt face with the Kaonashi, is this really a bad thing? 

I have no clue.

Well. One thing I do know is this: Hisashi is going to be so pissed.

 

x

 

After returning to the conference room, I feel much more reassured about Haku’s chances, and am able to concentrate, much to both Rumi’s, as well as my own, relief. And, once I am able to concentrate, I am quickly sucked into the process, helping to further distract me from the nascent panic that was quietly stewing at the edge of my mind. 

With the head artist, we draw up some preliminary sketches, using details from those already surrounding us. For the more humanoid characters, I encourage the artists to take license with their designs — now that I know these are real people (or, spirits), I can’t help but want to blur the lines between the film and reality as much as possible, on that level. When we get to the concept art for Haku’s dragon, though, I pause. 

“Here,” I hand over the sketch that Kaze had blown into my lap. “Use this one, please. He’s perfect.”

 

x

 

During our lunch break, I pull Rumi into the bathroom.

“Speaking of,” she waves her hand around, “what was that about earlier, dashing out of there like it was an emergency? I know your bladder is larger than that of a 4 year olds, and we just peed before we left the hotel. I know, because I made you try, even though you said you didn't need to go, and you did go! For awhile, too! I had to pee really bad, and had to wait for you to finish, and —”

“Rumi, shut up.”

“Well that’s rather rude, Chihir _ohshit_! What. What is that?”

I had pulled up my sleeve to show her the newest addition to my supernatural life. 

“Um, I’m not quite suuure…”

“Chihiro.”

“Yes. Soo, I may have accidentally upped the anti between Kaze and myself.”

“Meaning?”

“Well, he wasn’t very clear, um, so,”

“What _was_ he clear on?”

“I mean, there was mention of like a covenant, and forever, but like, that’s not really something to worry about, right? We could totally die tomorrow, so not a big deal! Er, right?”

“Chihiro.”

“Yes?”

“You are looking for reassurance about a _covenant_ made with an _immortal spirit_ for _forever_.”

“Yes.”

“Does the fact that you are looking for that reassurance in _me_ not tell you anything about this situation?!”

“You’re my best friend, I always ask you for advice and stuff—“

“Yeah! About sex positions and toilet paper brands! Not blood magic hoodoo that stamps you with a seal! What the hell, Chihiro! Of course it’s bad!”

I scrub my face with my hands and let out a pathetic moan that’s more whimper. “I know! I just was hoping that you would let me further delude myself into a sense of security!”

“I told you it was weird when your first boyfriend cried every time you slept together, and that you would have to break up with him, despite his amazing bod, and I’m making you face the facts here, too: Not. Good, Chihiro.”

“But Kaze is helping me watch over Haku. It’s not the same thing, this is good!”

“It’s exactly the same thing!” She froths, “Brad lured you in with his lickable abs, and firm buttocks, and the hair and the teeth, and then refused anything but missionary style and wept like a baby afterwards. Kaze has promised to help you watch over Haku, but it was on his rules, his time, and this time something tells me that _you’re_ going to be the one crying like a baby afterwards, once you find out the actual repercussions of this _covenant_ you’ve made on a whim!”

“Rumi,” I start scolding, but she cuts me off.

“I mean, damn, Chihiro! Even the word! _Covenant!_ There’s only one covenant that I know of, and you know what that one resulted in? Dudes getting the tips of their dicks chopped off!” her exclamation ends on a rushed, furious whisper.

“Rumi,” I raise an eyebrow at her, “really?”

“Well,” she straightens her shoulders, lifting her chin, “it’s true. And if you won’t listen to me, just ask yourself this. WWHS?”

“Huh?”

“What Would Hisashi Say?”

“You don’t even like him!”

“Well I don’t _hate_ him! And even if I did, I can’t deny that he cares for you and is deeply protective of you. When it comes to you, his desire to keep you safe outweighs his general distastefulness, and his usually rash and quite frankly stupid decision making. So. I ask you once more: WWHS?”

“…”

“Exactly. Now if you’ll excuse me, I believe lunch is over.”

She’s halfway through the door when I call after her, “So you wan’t me to let you know what Kaze gets back to me with?”

“Oh absolutely,” she sniffs without breaking stride, and I laugh. Until I remember how she brought up Brad, the foreign exchange ingrate I had all but forced myself to forget. 

Blech.

I really hope this isn’t like Brad. 

 

x

 

We’re bowing our goodbyes on the studio’s front steps when Kaze returns to me. 

_He is safe_.

I ignore the fact that he is communicating in full sentences, now, and no longer just impressions of words and emotions.

The studio is kind enough to provide us with a car to take us to any destination we choose, and we give the address of a noodle shop not too far from the hotel, but not close enough to indicate that that is where we are staying. 

As we settle into the black leather seats, I lean my head back and close my eyes. _Show me_ , I think, and Kaze does.

It’s like a windstorm is blowing through my thoughts, spinning my brain around in my skull, and I have to admit that I am getting rather nauseous. Just when I feel like I might lose the contents of my stomach, the spinning stops and is replaced with a prickling, tingling effect — like when a limb falls asleep, and the blood starts to return. Unpleasant, almost tickling but, mostly, acutely uncomfortable. The sensation spreads behind my eyes, through my fingers and toes, until it suddenly settles into the background as a constant, steady feeling of “ugh.” 

_Look._

Tentatively I open my eyes, and the static in my limbs clears from my vision like a radio being tuned to a signal. Slowly, a room comes into blurry focus, an impression of lights and sounds. The image moves forward, through the noise, down a back hall noticeably different in its austereness, through a thick door, and into what seems to be an office of sorts. My eyes pick out the details. A heavy desk with an oversized, thick leather chair behind it screaming “I Am Man”; various large figures scattered about the room in strategic positions — bodyguards, I assume; in the chair itself, which is no doubt compensating for something, a shorter, balding man in his mid to late thirties, tattoos ringing his neck; standing, facing the weaselly fellow, Haku. But not the Haku I know.

Something about the way he stands, the way he holds his shoulders back, his chin high, arms loose at his sides and legs wide, transmits a quiet power and violence. Even without the chair and the small posse of guards, Haku is infinitely more intimidating than the Kaonashi captain he is meeting with. I remember that this is, indeed, a meeting, and suddenly sound pours in, water through a drain, just as echoey and distorted, but still discernible. 

“We thought you were dead, ya know,” even warped through the vision, the captain’s voice is nasally and pinched. 

“I was, in a sense.”

“Ah, yes. The whole memory loss thing,” the captain sneers at his closest guard, indicating just how much he believes that excuse. 

“I would not expect a peon to have full knowledge of plans that went into action nearly 20 years ago,” Haku raises a haughty brow, and I nearly choke with the need to tell him to _Shut up! Don’t make him angry!_ As if he can sense my panicked displeasure buzzing at his ear, Haku swats at the air around his head.

The captain’s face turns mottled with fury, but he remains quiet a moment before continuing, “How is it that you regained your memory, then? The Little Heika failed in his mission, dooming us all, except for you. How convenient.”

If possible, Haku pulls himself up even taller, leaning forward menacingly, “The Little Heika left me to a fate of wandering, with no idea who I was or what I was capable of, trapped in Yubaba’s clutches. I have little love for him. The only reason my memories have returned is because my Avatar River, here in the human world, started flowing again recently. Little more than a spring in a parking lot, but it was enough.” My eyes go wide — could he mean _my_ spring? My little, quiet space, eked out of the concrete and tarmac that I’ve always felt so pulled towards? Have I been visiting a version of Haku this whole time? I focus back in on the conversation. 

“How is it that you crossed the veil? You have not been banished here, like the rest of us.”

“I am not without my own means. Why do you think I was Second, before everything went to hell?”

“The Little Heika was Third; that didn't stop him from screwing us all —“

“The Little Heika,” Haku growls, “is not the one standing in front of you, offering you a way out of your death sentence.” 

Another moment of quiet, and then, “No. He is not.” The captain leans back in his chair and laces his fingers together, “Tell me what you know.”

Just as Haku opens his mouth to answer, I am shaken from a distance.

“Chihiro. Chihiro, we’re here, wake up!”

The hand on my shoulder joggles me again, and I shoot upright in my seat, eyes blinking open. 

“You were really tired, huh? Fell asleep in like barely a minute.”

“I wasn’t sleeping,” I mumble, annoyed that she pulled me from the vision right as it was getting to the important bit, but conscious of the fact that I can't make the driver just sit here on a busy road for another 15 minutes as I ‘nap’. 

Rumi shoots me a look as we exit the vehicle, reaching forward to give the driver a tip. “Does this have anything to do with Kaze?”

“He was showing me what happened.”

“Showing? Like, literally?”

“Yeah. It was like a film-reel rolling in my head.”

“Well that’s not creepy and invasive.”

“Shut up, Rooms, you were as curious to know what happened as I was.”

“True. Still am. Spill.”

We stroll into the noodle shop and each order a simple bowl, and I relay what I saw as we slurp. I finish describing as we finish our meals, and Rumi purses her lips quietly.

“Not as good as our place back home,” she indicates her now empty bowl with her chopsticks. 

“Pretty close, though,” I respond slowly, going along with her sudden change in topic. 

“Yeah.”

Another moment of silence. 

“What he told the captain… Chihiro, do you think…?”

“What?”

“What if he wasn't actually lyin—“

“No,” I cut her off almost vehemently. “Don’t even consider it, Rumi. He was just making all that up. We know he regained his memory when I remembered his name, when I was little.”

“Do we, though? The only reason we _know_ this is because he told us.”

“And I believe him!”

“Chihiro,” Rumi dry scrubs her face, “Maybe I’m just playing devils’ advocate here, but isn’t it all just…a little _too_ serendipitous? He had no idea you would be able to hear what he said to that captain. Maybe he was telling the truth.”

“Rumi —“

“I’m just saying. He double played that Yubaba character however many years ago. What if he’s operating under the same m.o.?”

“And _I’m_ just saying that I know Haku, that he is my friend, _your_ friend, and he would never do something like that to us! How can you even _think_ that?! He would never betray us like that!” 

She lets out a heavy sigh, “I don’t know, Chihiro. It just all seems so convenient to me.”

“What does?” I ask scathingly, folding my arms with a defiant huff. 

“All of it. Think about it. Haku reappears in your life, you tell him you’re going to Tokyo, and then the gang just happens to finds you, and he just swoops in here with this grand idea of a plan —”

“Technically it was mine —“

“Yeah, but who provided you with the information to inform said plan?”

I choose to silently glare at her.

“Chihiro, did it ever occur to you that if something goes wrong, seriously wrong, the only one of us who will be able to plead true plausible deniability, the only one who could come out of this entire thing unscathed — either way — is Haku?”

Glare.

“I’m just _saying_ —“

“Well, stop! What is wrong with you? Haku is my…he’s my…”

“Brad.”

“ _What?_ Him again?”

She holds up a hand, “I like Haku. But I know douche-canoe Hisashi even better than I do him, and your sudden childhood connection to Haku aside, when it comes down to it, so do you. I’m being realistic, here. You liked Brad for his good lucks and charm outside the bedroom. You like Haku because of your evident connection to him from when you were a kid, and the character he became in your books. Even Haku told you that he is not that character, that he is different from how you think you remember him. Do you actually _know_ Haku?”

“Of course I do,” it is a near whisper. “And, Hisashi does, too, so—“

“Hisashi hasn't seen Haku in over a decade. And he's getting all of his information from the same source as you! How do you two know Haku is telling the truth? That what went down at that bathhouse when you were little actually went down that way — when you’ve forgotten and Hisashi was rampaging out of his right mind? Nobody but him _actually_ remembers!”

I glare some more. The mark on my elbow throbs. The bowls start to rattle. My hair starts to lift. My ears pop as if the pressure in the room is changing. “Rumi.”

She grips the edge of the table and glances around nervously, “Chihiro.”

“I’m going to need you to never, _ever_ , say something so _stupid_ again. Okay?”

“But Chihiro —“

“ _NO_.” The furniture starts to groan and now the other customers are starting to look around in confusion, mumbling things like ‘is that an earthquake?’

“O-okay. I was just trying to be sure —“

“ _I’m_ sure. That’s enough.” The force in the room lifts.

“Okay, Chihiro. Okay. If you say so,” she glances at my face and then quickly away with a swallow. 

I take a deep breath and push down the growing rage. It would be easy to blame the new, stronger bond with Kaze for my belligerent outburst, but this is Rumi. I need to take responsibility. “I’m sorry, Rumi. I didn’t mean to be a bitch.” She arches a brow, eyes still focused down on the table. “I know you mean well. I do. I just…I’ve doubted Haku before. And I promised myself I would never do that again.”

“Is that really a smart thing to do, Chihiro? Follow someone blindly?” She lifts her gaze to mine, finally.

I give her a wobbly smile, “Love is blind, right?”

She breaths out a disbelieving laugh, “What about the rest of us, though? Are we supposed to just rely on Haku because of your faith? This is _dangerous_ , what we’re doing, Chihiro.”

I reach forward and take one of her hands in mine, “I know. I know it’s dangerous. Which is exactly why I refuse to let doubt cloud my mind. Now, especially, we can't let uncertainty and hesitation divide us. We need to stick together.”

“That’s good and well, but it’s far from reality.”

“Because magic and spirits aren’t?” I laugh. “Rumi. If you can’t trust Haku, then trust _me_. I wouldn't let you be involved if I didn't believe in Haku 100%.”

“Do you, though? Really? There’s not a shred of doubt?”

I bow my head, but answer quickly, “No.” I raise my face to her’s again, “there really isn’t. I trust him with my life.”

“And mine? Ren’s?”

I swallow down any uncertainty with a swallow. “Yes.”

She shakes her head with a sigh and sits back in her seat, but doesn't let go of my hand. “I hope you’re right, Chihiro. I really hope you’re right.”

“I know I am.”

“I know you _think_ you are. And I do trust _you_. So that’ll have to be enough for me.”

I ponder a moment, “Is this going to change things? How you act with Haku?”

“No,” she waves the question away. “I can compartmentalize. I just plan on being even nosier than normal.”

“That’s hard to believe.”

“Hey. We’re at war.”

“Just remember who the real enemies are, Rumi.”

“It’s our allies I’m worried about.”

“Rumi!”

“Yeah, yeah, okay, sorry. My lips are sealed. I trust you and your judgment.”

“Do you?”

She squeezes my hand, “You know I do.”

“Then, please. Just _drop_ it.” The bowls rattle once more.

She pulls her hand away and waves it in the air between us, eyes once more on the tabletop, “Out of sight, out of mind.”

I nod and get up to pay the bill. 

This is the first time Rumi has ever outright lied to me. 

 

x

 

We make our way towards the hotel in awkward silence, both pretending that we didn’t just narrowly avoid our very first serious fight. I look down at my boots scuffing along the concrete with a frown as I consider whether it really was avoided. Something feels off. I rub at my elbow as I continue to contemplate, stealing glances at Rumi out of the corner of my eye. We’ve never had a real fight before, in all of our years of friendship. We’re both too honest and too loyal to each other for any kind of tiff to have ever progressed to that point. I’ve never been left with this lingering feeling of unease after an argument with her, and I don’t know what to do about it. It must just be the stressful day in general, making it hard to let go of her accusations of Haku. At the thought, some of my anger resurfaces, but I tamp it down. I seem to be doing that a lot today. 

We approach a small park near the hotel where Hisashi already waits by an obscure smoking area. I made him quit, back when we dated, but he has no doubt been deeply inhaling while he waits, trying to soothe his stress second-hand. He spots us, but the grin that starts to spring to life on his face slowly fades as he notices our tension. 

“What?” he looks from one of us to the other. “What is it? Is everything okay? Did something happen? I didn’t get a call, I thought we were in the clear,” he worriedly takes out his cellphone, glancing down at its screen, and then back up in confusion when he doesn’t see any notifications. 

“Nothing, Hisashi, just a big of a misunderstanding,” I reassure both him and myself, and reach out to pat his arm. Immediately, he yanks back as if burned, and I stare at him in shock. “Are _you_ okay?” I turn the question around.

“Chihiro…”

“What? What is it?”

“What have you done?” he asks in a forcedly steady voice, eyes wide and horrified. 

“I -“ my voice cracks and words fail me. “I’m sorry,” I near whisper, but then, slightly stronger, shaking my head, “Actually, I’m not. I’m sorry that you and Haku are probably going to lose a lot of sleep over this, but I’m not sorry because you definitely won’t be losing your _lives_. Not if I can help it.”

“What in the hell is she talking about?” he turns to Rumi, incredulous, angry. 

Rumi looks at me, and I am shocked at the fear I see in her face. For me? _Of_ me? I feel a little sick. “I think we should wait until Haku gets here,” she quickly twists her gaze away, and Hisashi’s mouth falls open at her muted response. 

“Damn it. _Damn_ it,” Hisashi runs his hands through his hair, resting them behind his neck as he rolls and bites his lips.

“You don’t even know what’s happened,” I try to pacify, but come off sounding rather petulant.

“I know enough!” He spins towards me, “I know what this means!” before turning away again, pacing the five feet between us and the smoker’s bench back and forth, hands still gripping the back of his skull.

I wonder what he felt when I touched him. “I…I didn’t hurt you, did I?” I ask tentatively.

He barks an incredulous laugh, “ _Nope_ , I wouldn't say that, Hiro. Not at all.” Another forced laugh. “But you sure as hell aren’t helping, either. _Shit_.”

I look to Rumi for help deciphering, but she just shrugs, still looking uneasy, but also as confused as I am. I sigh and inch around Hisashi, taking a seat on the bench while Rumi stays standing, her ankles crossed and hands in pockets, examining something by her feet. 

What feels like hours but is only minutes later, Haku and Ren emerge from the park, having parked the car on its far side and navigated the small patch of trees in an attempt to throw off any potential tails. Immediately, they catch onto the tension.

“So, I was going to suggest Sake all around, but something tells me that that’s not gonna happen,” Ren frowns, and Rumi is quick to go to him, sliding under his arm and wrapping her arms around his waste. 

Haku glances from her timid form, to where I sit huddled on the bench, to Hisashi still pacing furiously, and simply raises a brow. 

“She-!” Hisashi throws an arm out, sputters, and then continues to pace in seething silence. 

“Chihiro?” Haku approaches me, worry in the set of his shoulders, his hand held out in a placating gesture. I see the tendons wrapped in warm skin and remember how they felt on my own skin, taking and giving, strong and gentle. My face flushes, and a small smile ticks at the corner of his mouth, as if he knows where my thoughts just went, but then he is serious again. “Chihiro, what’s happened?”

I open my mouth to respond, but am gripped with agitation. He won’t understand. Of course he won’t. Hisashi doesn’t, not even Rumi does, why would he? It’s not fair. I did this for him, after all — for all of them. 

“Chihiro?” he asks again, confused why I haven't answered him. He is at the bench now, and he reaches out with that hand I just admired, and lays it on my shoulder. With a groan, he wrenches it back, face distraught. “You didn’t,” he whispers. “Please, tell me you didn’t.” 

I rush to my feet and square my shoulders. “I’m not sorry,” I declare once more, refusing to back down. “And you can’t make me be.”

“Chihiro,” he near moans, dragging his hand over his mouth, “you have no idea what you have done. _None_.”

“So enlighten me,” I challenge. Though I’m resistant, I can’t help but feel tired of stumbling into contracts with spirits and having to rely on others to explain the implications to me. 

“You’ve tied yourself to him!”

“I strengthened our blood-bond, so?”

“No, Chihiro. No,” Haku lets out a humorless laugh, empty and sardonic. Hisashi stops in his pacing and comes up behind Haku, squeezing his shoulder. I frown at what can only be an encouragement, a lending of strength, my stomach tightening in foreboding. “You -“ Haku shakes his head slowly, looks at me with heartbroken eyes, “you’ve _tied_ yourself to him.”

“What does that mean?”

“It’s not just a bond anymore, Chihiro. You’re his. Body, blood, and soul. _His_.”

_My Little. Bird._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DUH DUH DUH
> 
> Another plot twist! Kinda. I just made an old one twisty-er? Idk. 
> 
> Remember: Heika means your majesty and is used for sovereign Japanese royalty 
> 
> Yes, Chihiro is becoming a little unstable/unreliable as a narrator…sorry. Yell at me in the comments, if you want xD
> 
> Songs!!: 
> 
> **for the kiss**: In Peace, from the Penny Dreadful soundtrack, by Abel Korzeniowski. This song just sounds sad, but hopeful, with a soft, lovely little build 32 seconds in where I imagine them kissing suddenly, desperate and full of emotion. Def an understated song, but one thats really powerful and makes me weepy if I listen to it too much haha.
> 
> **for the forming of the blood covenant**: Right Behind You, again from the Penny Dreadful soundtrack, by Abel Korzeniowski. It starts off just kinda vaguely creepy, but builds up as the exchange between Chihiro and Kaze continues, getting real at about 1:09 in, when Chihiro starts agreeing to the covenant, and then crescendos at 1:25 when Kaze disappears. The rest of the piece sounds ominous and kinda sickly, as Chihiro contemplates the ‘tattoo’ and what she’s just done.
> 
> **for Haku’s reveal that “you’re his”**: Transgression, from — you guessed it! — the Penny Dreadful soundtrack. This is an almost 4 minute song, but I used it to write like 3 lines haha. The whole vibe, though, is just dark and ominous and generally creepy. Especially at 1:57 in where it just leads into this eerie little cello bit. Yikes! I still love Kaze, and he will be a powerful force in this fic, so despite the menacing music and turn of events, don’t hate him yet! :P
> 
>  
> 
> OK That’s all for now folks! See you in half a year! (kill me, it’ll be way sooner than that, I pray)
> 
> x


End file.
